'
"'Texas is good people,' says Dave, 'an' the last gent with which I
thirsts to dig up the war-axe. Which I'm proud to be his friend; an'
I means no offense when I su'gests that he whirl a smaller loop when
he onbosoms himse'f of a tale. I yere tenders Texas my hand,
assurin' of him that I means my language an' ain't holdin' out
nothin'. Shake!' An' at this Dave reaches his pistol-hand to Texas
Thompson, an' the same is seized prompt an' friendly.
"`This yere is my fault,' says Texas. 'I reckons now my wife
recoverin' that Laredo divorce I'm mentionin' to you-alls, sorter
leaves me a heap petulant, that a-way. But to go back to this war-
jig I was relatin' about down at Plaza Paloduro.
"'It's this a-way: No, Nellie; thar's no female in it. This yere
grows from a business transaction; an' the effort tharfrom to
improve on present conditions, institoot a reign of law, an' lect a
jedge.
"'Which the comin' of a miscreant named Cimmaron Pete, from some'ers
over near the 'Doby Walls, is the beginnin' of the deal. This
Cimmaron Pete comes trailin' in one day; an' a shorthorn called
Glidden, who runs a store at the ford, comes ropin' at Cimmaron Pete
to race ponies.
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