"'I don't know,' says Jim; 'I stands quite a racket if I'm shore it fetches her.'
"'What for a game,' says Cherokee, 'would it be to play like Jim's shot? Wouldn't that make her come a-runnin' same as if it's shore 'nough?'
"'I don't see why not,' says Enright.
"Well, the idee gains ground like an antelope, an' at last gets to be quite a conspir'cy.It's settled we plays it, with Dave Tutt to do the shootin'.
"'An' we makes the game complete,' says Jack Moore, 'by grabbin'
Dave immediate an' bringin' of him before the committee, which convenes all reg'lar an' deecorous in the Red Light for said purpose.We-alls must line out like we're goin' to hang Dave for the killin'; otherwise it don't look nacheral nohow, an' the lady detects it's a bluff.'
"We gets things all ready, an' in the middle of the afternoon, when Jennie is draggin' her lariat 'round loose an' nothin' much to do--'cause we ain't aimin' to disturb her none in her dooties touchin'
them flapjacks an' salt hoss--we-alls assembles over in the New York Store.As a preliminary step we lays Jim on some boxes, with a wagon-cover over him, like he's deceased.
"'Cl'ar things out of the way along by Jim's head,' says Jack Moore, who is takin' a big interest.'We wants to fix things so Jen can swarm in at him easy.You hear me! she's goin' to come stampedin' in yere like wild cattle when she gets the news.'
"When everythin's ready, Tutt an' Jack, who concloods it's well to have a good deal of shootin', bangs away with their guns about four times apiece.
"'Jest shootin' once or twice,' says Jack, 'might arouse her s'picions.It would be a heap too brief for the real thing.'
"The minute the shootin' is ceased we-alls takes Tutt an' surges over to the Red Light to try him; a-pendin' of which Dan Boggs sa'nters across to the O.K.Restauraw an' remarks, all casooal an'
careless like:
"'Dave Tutt downs Jim Baxter a minute back; good clean gun-play as ever I sees, too.Mighty big credit to both boys this yere is.No shootin' up the scenery an' the bystanders; no sech slobberin' work;but everythin' carries straight to centers.'
"'Where is he?' says Jennie, lookin' breathless an' sick.
"'Jim's remainder is in the New York Store,' says Dan.
"'Is he hurt?' she gasps.
"'I don't reckon he hurts none now,' says Dan, ''cause he's done cashed in his stack.Why! girl, he's dead; eighteen bullets, caliber forty-five, plumb through him.'
"'No, but Dave! Is Dave shot?' Tucson Jennie says, a-wringin' of her small paws.
"'Now don't you go to feelin' discouraged none,' says Dan, beginnin'
to feel sorry for her.'We fixes the wretch so his murderin' sperit won't be an hour behind Jim's gettin' in.The Stranglers has him in the Red Light, makin' plans to stretch him right now.'
"We-alls has consoomed drinks all 'round, an' Enright is in the chair, an' we're busy settin' up a big front about hearin' the case, when Tucson Jennie, with a scream as scares up surroundin' things to sech a limit that five ponies hops out of the corral an' flies, comes chargin' into the Red Light, an' the next instant she drifts 'round Tutt's neck like so much snow.
"'What for a game do you call this, anyhow?' says Jack Moore, who's a heap scand'lized.'Is this yere maiden playin' anythin' on this camp?'
"'She's plumb locoed with grief,' says Dan Boggs, who follers her in, 'an' she's done got 'em mixed in her mind.She thinks Dave is Baxter.'
"'That's it,' says Cherokee.'Her mind's stampeded with the shock.
Me an' Jack takes her over to Jim's corpse, an' that's shore to revive her.' An' with that Cherokee an' Jack goes up to lead her away.
"'Save him, Mister Enright; save him!' she pleads, still clingin' to Tutt's neck like the loop of a lariat.'Don't let 'em hang him! Save him for my sake!'
"'Hold on, Jack,' says Enright, who by now is lookin' some thoughtful.'Jest everybody stand their hands yere till I counts the pot an' notes who's shy.It looks like we're cinchin' the hull onto the wrong bronco.Let me ask this female a question.Young woman,'
he says to Tucson Jennie, 'be you fully informed as to whose neck you're hangin' to?'
"'It's Dave's, ain't it?' she says, lookin' all tearful in his face to make shore.
"Enright an' the rest of us don't say nothin', but gazes at each other.Tutt flushes up an' shows pleased both at once.But all the same he puts his arms 'round her like the dead-game gent he is.
"'What'll you-alls have, gents?" Enright says at last, quiet an'
thoughtful.'The drinks is on me, barkeep.'
"'Excuse me,' says Doc Peets, 'but as the author of this yere plot, I takes it the p'ison is on me.Barkeep, set out all your bottles.'
"'Gents,' says Jack Moore, 'I'm as peaceful a person as ever jingled a spur or pulled a gun in Wolfville; but as I reflects on the active part I takes in these yere ceremonies, I won't be responsible for results if any citizen comes between me an' payin' for the drinks.
Barkeep, I'm doin' this myse'f.'
"Well, it's hard enoomeratin' how many drinks we do have.Jim Baxter throws away the wagon cover an' comes over from the New York Store an' stands in with us.It gets to be a orgy.
"'Of course it's all right,' says Enright, 'the camp wins with Tutt instead of Baxter; that's all.It 'lustrates one of them beautiful characteristics of the gentler sex, too.Yere's Baxter, to say nothin' of twenty others, as besieges an' beleaguers this yere female for six weeks, an' she scorns 'em.Yere's Tutt, who ain't makin' a move, an' she grabs him.It is sech oncertainties, gents, as makes the love of woman valuable.' "'You-alls should have asked me,' says Faro Nell, who comes in right then an' rounds up close to Cherokee.
'I could tell you two weeks ago Jennie's in love with Tutt.Anybody could see it.Why! she's been feedin' of him twice as good grub as she does anybody else.'"
