that she was livin' there
yet; but never went out without a heavy veil, an' the' wasn't any way
short o' physical force to get to speak to her.

I figured out that Dick wouldn't care to go back to Texas, so the
chances were that he was either in San Francisco or England. I didn't
know anything about England, so I went to Frisco. I prowled around for
a couple o' days exactly like a story-detective; an' by jinks, I turned
up a clew. That feller, Piker, was the clew, an' when I spied him in a
low gamblin' room I made some little stir until I got him alone so I
could talk to him. I hadn't hurt him none; but I had been tol'able
firm, an' he was minded to speak the truth. He told me that Dick was in
the Texas Penitentiary for life--that he had surrendered himself up,
an' that this was what had give him life instead of the rope.

I knew the gang what had put him there, an' I knew that his chances for
gettin' out were about as good as if he was in his grave. I was stumped
an' I knew it; so I sez to Piker: "Piker, you may think that I'm allus
as gentle as I've been with you; but if this ain't the truth you've
told me I'll get your life if I have to track you bare-footed through
hell."

He swore by everything he could remember that it was the solemn truth,
an' then I turned him loose an' I turned myself loose too. The boys
down at Frisco was certainly glad to see me, an' we sure had a royal
good time as long as my money lasted; but when it began to dry up they
seemed to lose interest in me an' had a heap o' private business to
attend to.

One mornin' I noticed that I was dead broke; so I drilled down to the
dock an' sat on a post. Pretty soon along comes a little fat man, an'
he looks me over from nose to toe. I don't know why it is, but as a
rule a city man takes as open-hearted an' disembarrassed an interest in
me as though I was a prize punkin' or the father of a new breed o' beef
cattle. After he had made up his opinion he smiles into my eyes an'
sez, "I like your face."

"You soothe me," sez I. "I was just thinkin' o' havin' it remodelled;
but now I'll leave it just as it is."

Well, he laughs an' slaps me on the back an' sez, "I like your style.
Want to take a ride?"

"What on?" sez I, for he seemed purty blocky an' fat-legged for a
ridin' man.

"On that there sailboat," sez he, pointin' to a thing about the size of
a flat-iron with a knittin'-needle stickin' out of it. I give a little
think, an' I sez: "To tell