hill it's the last that spellbound outfit ever sees of Silver Phil.

"Nacherally now," remarked my old friend, as he refreshed himself with
a mouthful of scotch, "you-all is waitin' an' tryin' to guess wherever
does Dan Boggs get in on this yere deal. An' it won't take no time to
post you; the same bein' a comfort.

"Not one word do we-all wolves of Wolfville hear of the divertin'
adventures of Silver Phil--shootin' up his gyards an' fetchin' himse'f
free--ontil days after. No one in camp has got Silver Phil on his mind
at all; at least if he has he deems him safe an' shore in hock,
a-waitin' to be stretched. Considerin' what follows, I never
experiences trouble in adoptin' Doc Peets' argyments that the eepisodes
wherein this onhappy Silver Phil figgers sort o' aggravates his
intellects ontil he's locoed.

"'Bein' this Silver Phil's a degen'rate,' declar's Peets, explanatory,
'he's easy an' soon to loco. His mind as well as his moral nacher is
onbalanced congenital. Any triflin' jolt, much less than what that
Silver Phil runs up on, an' his fretful wits is shore to leave the
saddle.

"Now that Silver Phil's free, but loonatic like Peets says, an' doubly
vicious by them tantalisin' gyards, it looks like he thinks of nothin'
but wreckin' reprisals on all who's crossed his trail. An' so with
vengeance eatin' at his crim'nal heart he p'ints that bronco's muzzle
straight as a bird flies for Wolfville. Whoever do you-all reckon now
he wants? Cherokee Hall? Son, you've followed off the wrong waggon
track. Silver Phil--imagine the turpitoode of sech a ornery
wretch!--is out for the lovely skelp of Faro Nell who detects him in