"Judgin' from wot I kin see, I should say he was! I mean he _was_ good
fer something. I should say he was surely a terrible weaver if he
couldn't keep straight, hitched up alongside of the--the lamented
widow. I don't think any feller could be much if he wasn't. Yuh see,
pardner, he had _all the chance in the world_. _He_ didn't need to be
jay-hawkin' round, makin' eyes at every red-cheeked biscuit-shooter
that fed him hot cakes. _He_ had a nice ranch and a good wife. A
feller that couldn't be grateful tuh a woman that's treated him as
good as she has to-day, and hauled him clear from Willow Springs tuh
git a Christian burial, and stood around fer him in a hot sun--well,
he couldn't be no account _at all_!"

Cassidy paused and spat. "That's the way _I_ look at it. And,"
thwarting the restive fireman by a startlingly painful grip on the
fleshy part of his arm, "any feller that ain't got as good a wife--any
feller that ain't got _any_, and lays round drinkin', and foolin' his
money away on the 'double O,' and sittin' in tuh stud games with
permiskus strangers, and gettin' ready tuh be a hobo--all I kin say
is, he'd better brace up and try tuh deserve one. A feller that ain't
got a wife is a no-account loafer and bum, and he ought tuh git
kicked! _This_ man had one, but he went and left her. Even then he
done better than _yuh_ done! That's all."

"Kin I go now?" queried the fireman smartly.

"Yuh kin!" responded Cassidy, malevolently, "but I'll see yuh later,
young feller. I ain't overfond of yuh." And he turned away to cover
the coffin with sand, digging it up laboriously and scattering it here
and there with a piece of board.