says, ' Hello, where did you come from ? 

 Come and have a drink ! ' Pard says, 

 4 No, I don't want nothing ! ' ' Oh, 

 come along and have a drink ! ' Dick 

 says, ' No, thanks, pard, I'm not drink- 

 ing to-night.' 'Well, I guess you'll 

 have a drink with me ' ; and Red pulls 

 out his six shooter. Dick wasn't quick 

 enough about throwing up his hands, 

 and he gets killed. Then Irish Mike 

 says to Red, ' You better hit the breeze/ 

 but we ketched him a telegraph pole 

 was handy I says, ' Have you got 

 anything to say *? ' ' You write to my 

 mother and tell her that a horse fell on 

 me. Don't tell her that I got hung,' 

 Red says ; and we swung him." 



By the time he had thus proudly 

 stretched out his three dead men before 

 my imagination, in a setting of innumer- 

 able shooting scraps and horse stealings, 



