him that this weddin' he pro. poses is postponed an' all bets is
off.

"I finds him easy enough, an' saws it off on him in Spanish how the
game stacks up. But he ain't cheerful about it, an' displays a
mighty baleful sperit. Jest as Tutt allows he's out to shoot for the
squaw in a minute, an' as thar's no gettin' away from it, I tells
him to paint himse'f for war an' come a-runnin'.

"I has to carry a hard face; for we're shorely in for it. Yere we be
four days from Wolfville, an' the Injuns--an' I reckons thar's
twenty bucks in the outfit-is camped in between us an' he'p.

"This Injun who's after the woman is named Black Dog. The next
mornin' Tutt saddles up an' rides off to one side of our camp, mebby
it's a quarter of a mile, an' then gets offen his pony an' stands
thar. We-alls don't onfold to the towerists the details of the deal,
not even to the Injun's father-in-law. The towerist female is that
ign'rant of what's going' on, she's pesterin' 'round all
onconscious, makin' bakin'-powder biscuit at the time. I looks at
her close, an' I wonders even yet what that Black Dog's thinkin' of.
But I don't get much time to be disgusted over this Black Dog's
taste before he comes p'intin' out from among his people.

"The sun's jest gettin' over the hills to the east, an', as it
strikes him, he's shore a fash'nable lookin' Injun. He ain't got
nothin' on but a war-bunnit an' a coat of paint. The rest of his
trousseau he confines to his Winchester an' belt. He's on his war-
pony, an' the bronco's stripped as bare as this Black Dog is; not a
strap from muzzle to tail. This bridegroom Injun's tied its mane