Cochise that every trick turned on the American side of the line has
done got to partake of the characteristics of a love affair, or the
Grey Fox with his young men in bloo--his walk-a-heaps an' his
hoss-warriors--noomerous as the grass, they be--will come down on
Cochise an' his Apaches like a coyote on a sage hen or a pan of milk
from a top shelf an' make 'em powerful hard to find.

"'Cochise smokes an' smokes, an' after considerin' the bluff of the
Grey Fox plenty profound, allows he won't call it. Thar shall be peace
between the Apache an' the paleface to the no'th'ard of that line.
Then the Grey Fox an' Cochise shakes hands an' says "How!" an' Cochise,
with a bolt or two of red calico wherewith to embellish his squaws,
goes squanderin' back to his people, permeated to the toes with
friendly intentions.

"'Sech is Cochise's reverence for his word, coupled with his fear of
the Grey Fox, that years float by an' every deefile an' canyon of the
Southwest is as safe as the aisles of a church to the moccasins of the
paleface. Thus it continyoos ontil thar comes a evenin' when a jimcrow
marshal, with more six-shooters than hoss sense, allows he'll apprehend
Cochise's brother a whole lot for some offense that ain't most likely
deuce high in the category of troo crime. This ediot offishul reaches
for the relative of Cochise; an' as the latter--bein' a savage an'
tharfore plumb afraid of captivity--leaps back'ard like he's met up
with a rattlesnake, the marshal puts his gun on him an' plugs him so
good that he cashes in right thar. The marshal says later in
explanation of his game that Cochise's brother turns hostile an' drops
his hand on his knife. Most likely he does; a gent's hands--even a
Apache's--has done got to be some'ers.