pace closer, in that vague, never
formulated, never admitted friendship of one man for another in a
country which held real men.

"Do you know, Dan," said he, "if I could just onct in my life hear that
there song right out--herself singin', words and all--fiddles, like
enough; maybe a pianny, too--if I could just hear that! If I _could_
just hear--_that_!"

"Tom!"

They wandered on a way silently before the freighter spoke. "There is
some folks," said he, "that has to do things for keeps, for the rest of
the folks that can't do things for keeps. Some fellers has to just
drive teams, or run a ore bucket, or play the cards, or something else
common and useful--world's sort of fixed up that way, I reckon. But
folks that can do things for _keeps_--I reckon they're right proud,
like."

"Not if they really do the things that keep. That sort ain't proud,"
said Dan Anderson.

"Now, I can just see her a-settin' there," went on the freighter. "It
sounded like there was fiddles, and horns, and piannys all around."

"She was maybe standin' up."

"She was a-settin' there," said Tom Osby, frowning; "right there at the
pianny herself. Can't you see her? Don't you ever sort of imagine
things yourself, man?"

"God forbid!" said Dan Anderson. "No, I can't imagine things. That's
fatal--I try to forget things."

"Well," said Tom Osby, "I reckon I've been imaginin' things. Now,
there she's settin', right at the pianny, and sort of lettin' her
fingers run up and down--"

"Tra-la-loo-loo, loo-loo-la-la?" said Dan Anderson.

"Sure. That's just it. Tra-la-la-loo, loo-la-la-la, up and down the
whole shootin' match. And she sings! Now what does she sing? That
song about Gingerbread? That Mobile song? No, not none. It's 'Annie
Laurie' she sings, man, it's 'Annie Laurie'! Now, I freighted to El
Paso before the railroad, and I know them boys. They'll tear up the
house."

"She'll be wearin' black lace and diamonds," said Dan Anderson,
irrelevantly; "and when she breathes she'll swell up like a toy
balloon. She'll bat her eyes. They got to do those things."

"Man," said Tom Osby, "there's times when I don't like you."

"Well, then, cut out the lace. I'll even leave off the diamonds."

"She's settin' right there," said Tom Osby, wagging his forefinger,
"and she's dressed in white--"

"With a blue sash--"

"Sure! And she sings! And it's 'Annie Laurie'! And because I want my
own share of things that's fo