full of ribbons, an' throws a red blanket across his pony's withers
for general effects. Take it all over, he's a nifty-lookin' savage.

"So far as the dooel goes, Dave ain't runnin' no resk. He stands
thar on the ground an' keeps his hoss between him an' this yere
Black Dog. It's a play which forces the bridegroom's hand, too. He's
due, bein' Injun, to go cirelin' Dave an' do his shootin' on the
canter.

"An' that's what this weak-minded savage does. He breaks into a lope
an' goes sailin' 'round Dave like a hawk. Durin' them exercises he
lays over on the shoulder of his hoss an' bangs away from onder its
neck with one hand, permiscus.

"This is mere frivolity. Thar ain't no white gent who could shoot
none onder sech conditions; an' Injuns can't shoot nohow. They don't
savey a hind sight. An', as I remarks, if Dave's hit any, it's goin'
to shorely be an accident, an' accidents don't happen none in
Arizona; leastwise not with guns.

'Mebby this Black Dog's banged away three times, when Dave, who's
been followin' of him, through the sights for thirty seconds,
onhooks his rifle, an' the deal comes to a full stop. Dave's
shootin' a Sharp's, with a hundred an' twenty grains of powder, an'
the way he sends a bullet plumb through that war-pony an' this yere
Black Dog, who's hangin' on its off side, don't bother him a bit.
The pony an' the Black Dog goes over on their heads.

"Dave rides in, an' brings the blanket an' war-bunnit. Even then,
the female towerist, which is the object of the meetin', don't seem