' every other law of
nacher survives onteched. My notion is to agree with this Miss Bark,
verbal, an' trust to Wolfville's onbeatable luck to pull us through.'

"This counsel sounds good to us, an' we follows it. When Miss Bark
sets forth her woman's rights fulm'nations along with her nosepaint,
we murmurs a hearty assent, an' drinks down both impartial. Boggs,
who's 'motional an' easy worked on, even gets to whar he gives it out
he's actchooally a convert.

"Miss Bark has been on the map for mebby it's a week, then thar occurs
a eeposide which, while it makes no profound impression, deceased
bein' a Mexican, shows she ain't packin' her pap Rattlesnake's old
Colt's .45 in a sperit of facetiousness. It's about third drink time
one evenin' when thar's the dull roar of a gun from over in the Votes
For Women S'loon. When we arrives we finds a dead greaser carelessly
quiled up near the door, an' Miss Bark snappin' the empty shell out of
her six-shooter.

"'He was roode,' is the only explanation she vouchsafes; an' Enright,
after lookin' at Peets a spell, who's lookin' at the ceilin', says
it's s'fficient.

"'Only,' says Enright, when we're all back safe in the Red Light, 'I
sincerely trusts she won't get her hindsights notched up to whar she
takes to bumpin' off _Americanos_. I shore don't know whatever in sech
case we could do, vig'lance committees, in the very essence of their
construction, possessin' no joorisdiction over ladies.'

"'That's right, Sam,' says Peets, plenty grave; 'if it ever gets to
whar this Miss Bark turns her artillery loose on the camp permis'cus
the only hope left would be to adjourn Wolfville _sine die_.'

"Miss Bark, however, never does grow homicidal toward any of us, an'
the only effect of her puttin' that Mexican over is that it inclines
folks gen'ral to step high an' softly on what occasions they're found
plantigradin' about in her s'ciety.

"One week, two weeks, three weeks goes by, an' since a dead Mexican
more or less ain't calc'lated to leave no onefface'ble scars the
incident is all but forgot, when a second uprisin' takes place in the
Votes For Women S'loon. This time it's that sickly curlew-voiced Oscar
who's the shriekin' center of eevents. Most of us is jest filin' out
of the O. K. Restauraw, pickin' our teeth after our matootinal
reepast, when we beholds this yere Oscar boilin' fo'th from the Votes
For Women S'loon, all spraddled out. As he goes t'arin' down the
street Miss Ba