n said. Whoever'd be that
hardened as to go harrowin' up the sens'tive soul of a artist, even if
his work don't grade as corn-fed?
"Some later tribyoote to his talents, however, reaches the y'ears of
Mike. On the back of Black Jack's protests the Lightnin' Bug, who's
come over from Red Dog for a little visit, drifts in. When he sees
Monte's portrait his eyes lights up like a honka-tonk on Saturday
night.
"'Rattlesnakes an' stingin' lizards!' he cries; 'which I'm a Mexican
if you-all ain't gone an' got him painted! However do you-all manage?
I remembers when we captures him it's the last spring round-up but
one. Two weeks goes by before ever we gets him so he'll w'ar clothes!
An' even then we-all has to blindfold him an' back him in!'
"'Whoever do you reckon that is, Bug?' asks Black Jack.
"'It's that locoed Digger Injun, ain't it?' says the Bug; 'him we
corrals, that time, livin' on ants an' crickets, an' roots an' yarbs,
over in Potato canyon?'
"'It's Monte.'
"'Monte! Does anybody get killed about it?'
"Black Jack mentions Mike as the artist.
"'What, that Dutch galoot with the long ha'r?' says the Bug.
"'Which he's a Pole.'
"'Pole or Dutchman, what's the odds? I sees a party back in Looeyville
whose ha'r's most as long as his. We entices him to a barber shop on a
bet to have it cut, an' I'm ag'in the union if four flyin' squirrels
don't come scootin' out. They've been nestin' in it.'
"The Bug swings lightly into the saddle after a while, an' goes
clatterin' back to Red Dog. No notice would have been took of what he
says, only Monte, who hears it from Black Jack, is that malev'lent he
goes an' tells Mike.
"'You-all will make trouble between 'em, Monte,' Nell reemonstrates,
when Monte's braggin' in his besotted way about what he's done.
"'That's all right, Nellie. Both of 'em's been insultin' me; Mike by
paintin' me so I'm a holy show, an' the Bug by lettin' on to take me
for a Digger buck. S'ppose the Bug downs Mike, or Mike does up the
Bug? Either way it's oats in your uncle Monte's feed box. That's me,
Nellie; that's your old uncle Monte every time! Which, when it comes
to cold intrigue, that a-way, I'm the swiftest sport in our set.'
"On hearin' about the Bug from Monte Mike gets plenty intemp'rate. He
goes plumb in the air, an' stays thar. He gives it out that he's goin'
to prance over to Red Dog an' lay for the Bug. Nothin' but blood is
goin' to do him.
"Thar's nothin' we can say
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