sech display of force. Every gent starts for'ard, an' some has pulled
their guns.

"'Paws off!' roars Enright to the pore dazed Professor, who
comes mighty clost to rottin' down right thar; 'in view of them
announcements'--yere Enright p'ints to the bill, whar Satan an'
the Professor is deepicted as teacher an' poopil--'do you-all reckon
we lets sech a devil's baby as you go manhandlin' that child?'

"The Professor throws up his hands like he's growing desp'rate.

"'Folks,' he says, 'I asks, in all hoomility, is thar anythin' I can
say or do in this yere camp without throwing away my life?'

"'Shore,' returns Boggs; 'all you got to do is give a deemonstration.'

"'However be I goin' to give a hypnotic deemonstration,' returns the
Professor, apparently on the verge of nervous breakdown, 'when every
possible subject is either too preeokyoopied, or too obstinate, or too
weak, or too yoothful, or too beautiful, or too drunk? If it's healin'
you're after, bring fo'th the sickest you've got. If he's blind an'
his eye ain't gouged plumb out, I'll make him see; if he's lame an'
his laig ain't cut plumb off, I'll make him walk. An' now, gents, I'm
through. If these yere proffers don't suit, proceed with my bootchery.
I care less, since one day with you-all exactin' tarrapins has
rendered life so distasteful to me that I wouldn't turn hand or head
to live.'

"Havin' got this off his mind, the harassed Professor sets down an'
buries his face in his hands.

"'Why not introdooce him,' breaks in Rucker, who's nosin' about, 'to
that aflickted shorthorn who comes groanin' in on the stage last
night? He's been quiled up in his blankets with the rhoomatism ever
since he hits camp. Which if this yere imposter can make him walk,
it'll shore be kings-up with Missis Rucker, 'cause she wants to make
the bed.'

"'Whar's this sufferer at?' demands Boggs, takin' the Professor by the
sleeve an' with the same motion pullin' his six-shooter. 'This yere
discussion's done reached the mark whar it's goin' to be a case of
kill or cure for some sport.'

"Rucker leads the way up sta'rs, Boggs an' the Professor next, the
rest trailin'. All hands crowds into the little dark bedroom. Thar on
the bed, clewed up into a knot, lies the rhoomatic party. As we-all
files in, he draws himse'f onder the blankets ontil nothin' but his
nose sticks out.

"'Professor,' says Boggs, an' his six-shooter goes 'kluck! kluck!'
mighty menacin', 'onfurl your game!