girl out, an' Enright begins tellin' her mighty soft as how her paw
is took bad down to the Red Light. But the girl seems to get it as
right as if she's scouted for it a month.

"'He's dead!' she says; an' then cripples down alongside of the door
an' begins to sob.

"'Thar ain't no use denyin' it, Miss,' says Enright, 'your paw
struck in on the big trail where the hoof-prints all p'ints one way.
But don't take it hard, Miss, thar ain't a gent don't give you
sympathy. What you do now is stay right yere, an' the camp'll tend
to the funeral, an' put it up right an' jest as you says, you bein'
mourner-in-chief. You can trust us for the proper play; since we
buries Jack King, obsequies is our long suit.'

"The little Sue girl struggles through somehow, an' has her nerve
with her. The funeral, you bet, is right. This time we ropes in a
preacher belongin' to some deep-water outfit over in Tucson. He
somehow is strayed, an' happens along our way, an' we gets him
squar' in the door. He jumps in an' gives them ceremonies a
scientific whirl as ain't possible nohow to amatures. All 'round we
wouldn't have put on more dog if we'd been plantin' Enright; all of
course on the little Sue girl's account. Next day the outfit goes
over to find out whatever she allows to do.

"'You sees, Miss; says Enright, 'anythin' you says, goes. Not
waitin' to learn its name, even, I'm directed to state as how the
camp backs your play an' makes good.'

"'I'm allowin' to go to the States,' says the girl, 'an' I'm