ou
could see your sins. Old Boomerang is shore some eevanescent! When
that Turner person shakes the reins an' yells 'Skoot!' you could hear
him whizz. On sech occasions he's nothin' short of a four-laigged
meteor, an' looks forty feet long passin' a given p'int.

"The big drawback is that thar ain't no quadrooped anywhar about to
race Boomerang ag'inst. Leastwise, we don't hear of none for goin' on
some months, an' when we do it's as far away as Albuquerque. Some
consumptive tenderfoot, it looks like, has got a trottin' hoss over
some'ers between Albuquerque an' Socorro, sech at least is the word
which comes to us.

"When this pulmonary sport hears of Boomerang, which he does by
virchoo of the overblown boastin's of the Turner person, he announces
that his hoss, Toobercloses, can beat him for money, marbles or chalk.
Then comes a season of bluff an' counter-bluff, the pulmonary party
insistin' that the Turner person bring Boomerang up to Albuquerque,
an' the Turner person darin' the pulmonary sport to fetch his 'dog,'
as he scornfully terms Toobercloses, down to Wolfville.

"It's to be said for the Turner person that he'd have shore took
Boomerang, an' gone romancin' off to Albuquerque, lookin' for that
weak-lunged reprobate an' his hoss, only sent'ment is plumb ag'inst
it. We-all don't propose to lose the camp the advantages of that
contest, an' so to put an eend to discussion, we urges upon the Turner
person that we-all'll shore kill him if he tries. This yere firmness
gives us the pref'rence over Albuquerque, an' the pulmonary sport
allows final that he'll come to Wolfville, but don't say when.

"While eevents is thus a-whirl, an' the camp's all keyed up to concert
pitch over the comin' race between Boomerang an' Toobercloses, the
long-hoped for comes to pass an' the Turner person, as fooneral
director, receives his 'nitial call. Over in Red Dog is a party named
Holt. He ain't standin' none too high, him havin' married a Mexican
woman, an' even them Red Dogs has the se'f-respect to draw the social
line at Mexicans. One sun-up, however, she goes trapesin' across the
line to visit her people down near Casa Grande, an' she never does
come back. It looks like she's got enough of old Holt, which to gents
who knows him don't go trenchin' on the strange.

"The long suit of this yere Mexican wife of old Holt's is thinkin'
she's sick, she holdin' that she's got as many things the matter with
her as is preyin' on Armstro