I gave it to you before,
For if you don't, they'll order you off with an old Colt's forty-four.

BOB STANFORD

Bob Stanford, he's a Texas boy,
He lives down on the flat;
His trade is running a well-drill,
But he's none the worse for that.

He is neither rich nor handsome,
But, unlike the city dude,
His manners they are pleasant
Instead of flip and rude.

His people live in Texas,
That is his native home,
But like many other Western lads
He drifted off from home.

He came out to New Mexico
A fortune for to make,
He punched the bottom out of the earth
And never made a stake.

So he came to Arizona
And again set up his drill
To punch a hole for water,
And he's punching at it still.

He says he is determined
To make the business stick
Or spend that derned old well machine
And all he can get on tick.

I hope he is successful
And I'll help him if I can,
For I admire pluck and ambition
In an honest working man.

So keep on going down,
Punch the bottom out, or try,
There is nothing in a hole in the ground
That continues being dry.

CHARLIE RUTLAGE

Another good cow-puncher has gone to meet his fate,
I hope he'll find a resting place within the golden gate.
Another place is vacant on the ranch of the X I T,
'Twill be hard to find another that's liked as well as he.

The first that died was Kid White, a man both tough and brave,
While Charlie Rutlage makes the third to be sent to his grave,
Caused by a cow-horse falling while running after stock;
'Twas on the spring round-up,--a place where death men mock.

He went forward one morning on a circle through the hills,
He was gay and full of glee, and free from earthly ills;
But when it came to finish up the work on which he went,
Nothing came back from him; for his time on earth was spent.

'Twas as he rode the round-up, an X I T turned back to the
herd;
Poor Charlie shoved him in again, his cutting horse he spurred;
Another turned; at that moment his horse the creature spied
And turned and fell with him, and beneath, poor Charlie died.

His relations in Texas his face never more will see,
But I hope he will meet his loved ones beyond in eternity.
I hope he will meet his parents, will meet them face to face,
And that they will grasp him by the right hand at the shining throne
of grace.

THE RANGE RIDERS