notorious fiddlers incloodin' Mrs. Slim Maloney, wife of the Honorable
Mayor Maloney, who will lead the grand march, an' who I consider one of
the top pyanoists of Choteau County, if not in the hull United States.
It is a personal fact ladies an' gents, that I've heard her set down to
a pyano an' play _Old Black Joe_ so natural you'd swear it was _Home
Sweet Home_. An' when she gits het up to it, I'll promise she'll
loosen up an' tear off some of the liveliest music any one of you's
ever shook a leg to.

"An' now, ladies an' gents, you can transfer an' go on when the train
pulls in on t'other side, or yon can stay an' enjoy yourselves amongst
us Wolf River folks an' go on tomorrow when the trussle gits fixed----"

"Ye-e-e-e-o-o-w! W-h-e-e-e-e."

Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang! A chorus of wild yells, a
fusillade of shots, and the thud of horses' hoofs close at hand drew
all eyes toward the group of riders that, spreading fan-like over the
flat that lay between the town and the railway, approached at top speed.

"The cowboys is comin'! Them's the Circle J," cried the Mayor.
"Things'll lively up a bit when the T U an' the I X an' the Bear Paw
Pool boys gits in." The cowboys were close, now, and the laughing,
cheering passengers surged back as the horses swerved at full speed
with the stirrups of their riders almost brushing the outermost rank of
the crowd. A long thin rope shot out, a loop settled gently about the
shoulders of the Mayor of Wolf River, and a cowhorse stopped so
abruptly that a cloud of alkali dust spurted up and settled in a grey
powder over the clothing of the assembled passengers.