to stand gyard. We don't allow to find spec'mens of Jack spread
'round loose after all the trouble we takes."




CHAPTER II.

THE STINGING LIZARD.


"Thar's no sorter doubt to it," said the Old Cattleman after a long
pause devoted to meditation, and finally to the refilling of his cob
pipe, "thar ain't the slightest room for cavil but them ceremonies
over Jack King, deceased, is the most satisfactory pageant Wolfville
ever promotes."

It was at this point I proved my cunning by saying nothing. I was
pleased to hear the old man talk, and rightly theorized that the
better method of invoking his reminiscences just at this time was to
say never a word.

"However," he continued, "I don't reckon it's many weeks after we
follows Jack to the tomb, when we comes a heap near schedoolin'
another funeral, with the general public a-contributin' of the
corpse. To be speecific, I refers to a occasion when we-alls comes
powerful close to lynchin' Cherokee Hall.

"I don't mind on bosomin' myself about it. It's all a
misonderstandin'; the same bein' Cherokee's fault complete. We don't