"An' it's just like a fool woman," tittered Willie. "That's sure
one ridic'lous line of talk."

"Still Bill" wiped his eyes with the back of a bony hand. "I know
that hull monologue by heart, but I can't never get past that
spot to save my soul. Right there I bog down, complete." Again he
burst into wild laughter, followed by his companions. "I don't
see how folks can be so dam' funny!" he gasped.

"It's natural to 'em, like warts," said Willie; "they're born
with it, the same as I was born to shoot straight with either
hand, and the same as the Mex was born to throw a rope. He don't
know how he does it, and neither do I. Some folks can say funny
things, some can sing, like Missus Melby; some can run foot-
races, like that Centipede cook--" Carara breathed an eloquent
Mexican oath.

"Do you reckon he fixed that race with Humpy Joe?" inquired
Stover.

"Name's Skinner," Willie observed. "It sure sounds bad."

"I'm sorry Humpy left us so sudden," said Still Bill. "We'd ought
to have questioned him. If we only had proof that the race was
crooked--"

"You can so gamble it was crooked," the little man averred. "Them
Centipede fellers never done nothin' on the square. They got
Humpy Joe, and fixed it for him to lose so they could get that
talkin'-machine. That's why he pulled out."