"You go off and lay down!" commanded Billy again, and to emphasize his
words leaned and emptied the contents of his glass neatly inside the
collar of the sheepherder. "Cool down, yuh Ba-ba-black-sheep!"

The herder forgot everything after that--everything but the desire to
tear limb from limb one Charming Billy Boyle, who sat and raked his
spurs up and down the marred front of the bar and grinned maliciously
down at him. "Go-awn off, before I take yuh all to pieces," he urged
wearily, already regretting the unjustifiable waste of good beer.
"Quit your buzzing; I wanta listen over there."

"Come on 'n' have a drink!" vociferated the hospitable one. "Yuh got
to be sociable, or yuh can't stop in _this_ man's town." So insistent
was he that he laid violent hold of Mr. Dill and tried to pull him
bodily to the bar.

"Gentlemen, this passes a joke!" protested Mr. Dill, looking around
him in his blankly melancholy way. "I do not drink liquor. I must
insist upon your stopping this horseplay immediately!"

"Oh, it ain't no _play_," asserted the insistent one darkly. "I mean
it, by thunder."

It was at this point that Charming Billy decided to have a word.
"Here, break away, there!" he yelled, pushing the belligerent
sheepherder to one side. "Hands off that long person! That there's
_my_ dill pickle!"

[Illustration: "HANDS OFF THAT LONG PERSON! THAT THERE'S _MY_ DILL