I
reckons eight people he has interested shoots all at once, an'
Crawfish Jim quits this earthly deal unanimous. He stops every
bullet; eight of 'em, like I says.
"'Thar ain't a man of us who don't feel regrets; but what's the use?
Thar we be, up ag'inst the deal, with Crawfish clean locoed. It's
the only wagon-track out.
"'I shore hopes he's on the hot trail of them bull-snakes of his'n,'
says Dan Boggs, as we lays Crawfish out on a monte-table. 'Seems
like he thought monstrous well of 'em, an' it would mighty likely
please him to run up on 'em where he's gone.'
"Whatever did we do? Why, we digs a grave out back of the dance-hall
an' plants Crawfish an' his pets tharin.
"'I reckons we better bury them reptiles, too,' says Doc Peets, as
we gets Crawfish stretched out all comfortable in the bottom. 'If
he's lookin' down on these yere ceremonies it'll make him feel
easier.'
"Doc Peets is mighty sentimental an' romantic that a-way, an' allers
thinks of the touchin' things to do, which I more'n once notices
likewise, that a gent bein' dead that a-way allers brings out the
soft side of Peets's nacher. You bet! he's plumb sympathetic.
"We counts in the snakes.
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