The Last of the Plainsmen 



speak, I concluded they had wisely left him out of 

 the secret. After mentally debating a moment, I 

 decided, as it was a very harmless joke, to help Frank 

 to the fulfillment of his enjoyment. 



&quot;Rattlesnakes!&quot; I exclaimed. u Heavens! I d 

 die if I heard one, let alone seeing it. A big rattler 

 jumped at me one day, and I ve never recovered from 

 the shock.&quot; 



Plainly, Frank was delighted to hear of my antipa 

 thy and my unfortunate experience, and he proceeded 

 to expatiate on the viciousness of rattlesnakes, partic 

 ularly those of Arizona. If I had believed the 

 succeeding stories, emanating from the fertile brains 

 of those three fellows, I should have made certain 

 that Arizona canons were Brazilian jungles. Frank s 

 parting shot, sent in a mellow, kind voice, was the 

 best point in the whole trick. &quot; Now, I d be nervous 

 if I had a sleepin -bag like yours, because it s just 

 the place for a rattler to ooze into.&quot; 



In the confusion and dim light of bedtime I con 

 trived to throw the end of my lasso over the horn of 

 a saddle hanging on the wall, with the intention of 

 augmenting the noise I soon expected to create; and 

 I placed my automatic rifle and .38 S. and W. Special 

 within easy reach of my hand. Then I crawled into 

 my bag and composed myself to listen. Frank soon 

 began to snore, so brazenly, so fictitiously, that I 



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