All of which Missis Rucker takes a day off an'
beats it into her by makin' signs. It's like two Injuns talkin'. It
all winds up by the Deef Woman p'intin' out on her way some'ers
East, an' thar ain't one of us ever sees the Major, the Deef Woman,
the kid, nor yet this Pinon Bill, no more. Which this last, however,
is not regarded as food for deep regrets,"
CHAPTER XXIV.
CRAWFISH JIM.
"Don't I never tell you the story of the death of Crawfish Jim?"
The Old Cattleman bent upon me an eye of benevolent inquiry. I
assured him that the details of the taking off of Crawfish Jim were
as a sealed book to me. But I would blithely listen.
"What was the fate of Crawfish Jim?"I asked. The name seemed a
promise in itself.
"Nothin' much for a fate, Crawfish's ain't," rejoined the Old
Cattleman. "Nothin' whatever compared to some fates I keeps tabs
onto. It was this a-way: Crawfish Jim was a sheep-man, an' has a
camp out in the foothills of the Tres Hermanas, mebby it's thirty
miles back from Wolfville. This yere Crawfish Jim was a pecooliar
person; plumb locoed, like all sheep-men. They has to be crazy or
they wouldn't pester 'round in no sech disrepootable pursoots as
sheep.
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