He'd be some hard to locate, I takes it, after he meets
up with a soul like mine a whole lot."
The Old Cattleman made this proclamation rather to himself than me,
but I could detect an air of pride. Then he went on:
"'This yere West you emanates from,' says this young preacher-sharp
to me that a-way, 'this yere West you hails from is roode, an' don't
yield none to religious inflooences.'
"'Well,' I says back to him, fillin' my pipe at the same time, 'I
reckons you shorely can c'llect more with a gun than a contreebution
box in the West, if that's what you-all is aimin' at. But if you
figgers we don't make our own little religious breaks out in
Arizona, stranger, you figgers a heap wrong. You oughter have heard
Short Creek Dave that time when he turns 'vangelist an' prances into
the warehouse back of the New York Store, an' shows Wolfville she's
shore h'ar-hung an' breeze-shaken over hell that a-way. Short Creek
has the camp all spraddled out before he turns his deal-box up an'
closes his game.'
"'But this yere Short Creek Dave,' he remonstrates to me, 'ain't no
reg'lar licensed divine. He ain't workin' in conjunctions with no
shore 'nough' sociation, I takes it.
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