AND OTHER WESTERN STORIES




EMERSON'S WIFE

Nick Ellhorn awoke and looked around the room with curiosity and
interest, but without surprise. He had no recollection of having
entered it the night before, and he was lying across the bed fully
clothed. But he had long ago ceased to feel surprise over a matter of
that sort. His next movement was to reach for his revolver, and he
gave a grunt of satisfaction on finding that it hung, as usual, from
his cartridge belt. He was aware of a deep, insistent thirst, and as
he sat up on the edge of the bed he announced aloud, in a tone of
conviction, "I sure need a cocktail!"

Glancing out of the window, he saw a little plaza, fresh in the morning
sunlight with its greening grass and budding trees, and beyond it the
pink walls and portalled front of a long adobe building. He nodded
approvingly.

"I reckon I pulled my freight from Albuquerque all right. And I had a
good load too," he reflected with a chuckle. "And I reckon I sure
bunched myself all right into Santa Fe; for if this ain't the Plaza
Hotel, I 'm drunker 'n a feller has any right to be who 's been total
abstainin' ever since last night. But I 've sure got to have a
cocktail now, if it busts a gallus!"

He stared wistfully at the door; but drunken lethargy was still upon