hirty
drinks comin', accordin' to the matches. Pour me out a couple of more
an' then you've got to take our little friend here an' beat it before
the fireworks start. I ain't drunk now, but I'm goin' to be! An' when I
am--there's a little song we used to sing way down on the Rio Grande, it
runs somethin' like this." Raising his voice the cowboy roared forth the
words of his song:

"I'm a howler from the prairie of the West.
If you want to die with terror, look at me.
I'm chain-lightning--if I ain't, may I be blessed.
I'm the snorter of the boundless prairie.

"He's a killer and a hater!
He's the great annihilator!
He's the terror of the boundless prairie!

"I'm the snoozer from the upper trail!
I'm the reveller in murder and in gore!
I can bust more Pullman coaches on the rail
Than anyone who's worked the job before.

"He's a snorter and a snoozer.
He's the great trunk line abuser.
He's the man who put the sleeper on the rail.

"I'm a double-jawed hyena from the East.
I'm the blazing, bloody blizzard from the States.
I'm the celebrated slugger; I'm the Beast.
I can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits.

"He's a double-jawed hyena!
He's the villain of the scena!
He can snatch a man bald-headed while he waits."

He finished with a whoop, and picking up the glass, drained it at a
gulp. "Beat it, now, Ike, ol' Stork!" he cried, "an' take a bottle of
bug-juice, an' our slumberin' friend, with you. So long, ol' timer! I'm
a wolf, an' it's my night to howl! Slip up to the hotel an' tell the
cook to shoot me down a half-dozen buzzard's eggs fried in grizzly
juice, a couple of rattlesnake sandwiches, a platter of live centipedes,
an' a prickly-pear salad. I'm hungry, an' I'm on my prowl!"

CHAPTER III

THE STAGE ARRIVES

The Timber City stage creaked and rattled as the horses toiled up the
long slope of the Dog Creek divide. The driver dozed on his seat, his
eyes protected from the glare of the hot June sun by the wide brim of
his hat, opened mechanically at intervals to glance along the white,
dusty trail. Inside, Winthrop Adams Endicott smiled as he noted the
eager enthusiasm with which his young wife scanned the panorama of
mountains and plain that stretched endlessly away to disappear in a
jumble of shimmering heat waves.

"Oh, Win! Don't you just _love_ it? The big black mountains with their
gird