ghing about something that happened there--to a
guy. Maybe you guys would get a kick out of it. After all, we got to
keep our sense of humor.

You see, there was me and a Kentucky kid named Stillwell in this pit--a
pretty big pit with lots of room--and we were all alone. This Stillwell
was a nice kid--green and lonesome and it's pretty sad, really, but
there's a yak in it, and--as I say--we got to keep a sense of humor.

Well, this Stillwell--a really green kid--is unhappy and just plain
drooling for his gal back home. He talks about his mother, of course,
and his old man, but it's the girl that's really on his mind as you guys
can plainly understand.

He's seeing her every place--like spots in front of his eyes--nice spots
doing things to him, when this Ruskie babe shows up.

My gun came up without any orders from me just as she poked her puss
over the edge of the pit, and--huh? Oh, thank you kindly. It sure tastes
good but I don't want to short you guys. Thank you kindly.

Well, as I was saying, this Ruskie babe pokes her nose over the edge of
the pit and Stillwell dives and knocks down my gun. He says, "You
son-of-a-bitch!" Just like that. Wild and desperate, like you'd say to a
guy if the guy was just kicking over the last jug of water on a desert
island.

It would have been long enough for her to kill us if I hadn't had good
reflexes. Even then, all I had time to do was knock the pistol out of
her hand and drag her into the pit.

With her play bollixed, she was confused and bewildered. She ain't a
fighter, and she sits back against the wall staring at us dead pan with
big expressionless eyes. She's a plenty pretty babe and I could see
exactly what had happened as far as Stillwell was concerned. His spots
had come to life in very adequate form so to speak.

* * * * *

Stillwell goes over and sits down beside her and I'm very much on the
alert, because I know where his courage comes from. But I decide it's
all right, because I see the babe is not belligerent, just confused kind
of. And friendly.

And willing. Kind of a whipped-little-dog willing, and man oh man! She
was sure what Stillwell needed.

They kind of went together like a hand and a glove--natural-like. And
it followed--pretty natural--that when Stillwell got up and led her
around a wing of the pit, out of sight, she went willing--like that same
little dog.

Uhuh. No, you guys. Two's enough. I wouldn't rob you.