which snorted and reared back, snapping the reins with which he had been
tied, and stood with distended nostrils sniffing inquiringly at Ace of
Spades as the cowpuncher swung to the ground.

"Woke up, didn't you, you old stager? Y'ain't so bad lookin' when you're
alive. Patty'll have to get him a new pair of bridle reins. Mebbe the
whole town'll look better if it's woke up some.

"Y-e-e-e-e-o-w! Cowboys a-comin'!"

A citizen or two paused on the street corner, a few Mexicans grinned as
they drew back to allow the Gringo free access to the saloon, and a
swarthy figure slipped unobserved across the street and blended into the
shadow of the adobe wall.

"O-o-o-o-o-h, the yaller r-o-s-e of Texas!" sang the cowpuncher, with
joyous vehemence. As he stepped into the room, his eyes swept the faces
of the gamblers and again he burst into vociferous song:

"O-o-o-o-o-h, w-h-e-r-e is my wanderin' b-o-y tonight?"

"Hey, you! Whad'ye think this is, a camp meetin'?"

The Texan faced the speaker. "Well, if it ain't my old college chum!
Fatty, I stopped in a purpose to see you. An' besides which, by the
unalien rights of the Constitution an' By-laws of this here United States
of Texas, a man's got a right to sing whatever song suits him
irregardless of sex or opportunity." The other glared malevolently as
the cowpuncher approached the bar with a grin. "Don't bite yourself an'
die of hydrophobia before your eggication is complete, which it ain't