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AOOMMMOZM, ZHZOS > 
says, ‘ Hello, where did you come from ? 
Come and have a drink!’ Pard says, 
‘No, I don’t want nothing!’ ‘Oh, 
come along and have a drink!’ Dick 
says, ‘ No, thanks, pard, ’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, 
