"'What's up?' says Cherokee Hall. 'He ain't tryin' to work us for
another drink I hopes.'
"Well, this is a deal,' says Doc, 'an' no humbug neither. Gents, I'm
blessed if this yere old prairie-dog ain't shorely up an' died.'
"We-alls comes up an' takes a look at him, an' Doc has called the
turn. Shore enough the old man has cashed in.
"`This is a hoss on us, an' no doubt about it,' says Enright. 'I
ain't worryin' for Wilkins, as he most likely is ahead on the deal;
but what gets me is how to break the news to this yere maiden. It's
goin' to be a hair-line play. I reckons, Doc, it's you an' me.'
"So they goes over to Wilkins's wickeyup an' calls the young Sue
girl out, an' Enright begins tellin' her mighty soft as how her paw
is took bad down to the Red Light. But the girl seems to get it as
right as if she's scouted for it a month.
"'He's dead!' she says; an' then cripples down alongside of the door
an' begins to sob.
"'Thar ain't no use denyin' it, Miss,' says Enright, 'your paw
struck in on the big trail where the hoof-prints all p'ints one way.
But don't take it hard, Miss, thar ain't a gent don't give you
sympathy. What you do now is stay right yere, an' the camp'll tend
to the funeral, an' put it up right an' jest as you says, you bein'
mourner-in-chief.
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