第75章

Where Whiskey Billy Died.

"Lies in the lump that a-way," said the Old Cattleman, apropos of some slight discussion in which we were engaged, "is bad--an' make no doubt about it!--that is, lies which is told malev'lent.

"But thar's a sort of ranikaboo liar on earth, an' I don't mind him nor his fabrications, none whatever.He's one of these yere amiable gents who's merely aimin' to entertain you an' elevate your moods;an' carryin' out sech plans, he sort o' spreads himse'f, an' gets excursive in conversation, castin' loose from facts as vain things onworthy of him.Thar used to be jest sech a mendacious party who camps 'round Wolfville for a while--if I don't misrecollect, he gets plugged standin' up a through stage, final--who is wont to lie that a-way; we calls him 'Lyin' Amos.' But they're only meant to entertain you; them stories be.Amos is never really out to put you on a wrong trail to your ondoin'.

"We-all likes Amos excellent; but, of course, when he takes to the hills as a hold-up, somebody has to down him; an' my mem'ry on that p'int is, they shorely do.What for lies would this yere Amos tell?

Well, for instance, Amos once regales me with a vivid picture of how he backs into a corner an' pulls his lonely gun on twenty gents, all 'bad.' This yere is over in Deming.An' he goes on dilatin' to the effect that he stops six of 'em for good with the six loads in his weepon, an' then makes it a stand-off on the remainin' fourteen with the empty gun.

"'It is the slumberin' terrors of my eye, I reckons,' says this Lyin' Amos.

"Which it's reason, an' likewise fact, that sech tales is merest figments on their faces; to say nothin' of the hist'ry of that camp of Deming, which don't speak of no sech blood.

"But, as I says, what of it? Pore Lyin' Amos!--he's cashed in an'

settled long ago, like I mentions, goin' for the Wells-Fargo boxes onct too frequent! Which the pitcher goes too often to the well, that a-way, an' Amos finds it out! Still, Amos is only out to entertain me when he onfurls how lucky an' how ferocious he is that time at Deming.Amos is simply whilin' the hours away when he concocts them romances; an' so far from bein' distrustful of him on account tharof, or holdin' of him low because he lets his fancy stampede an' get away with him, once we saveys his little game in all its harmlessness, it makes Amos pop'lar.We encourages Amos in them expansions.

"Speakin' of lyin', an' bein' we're on the subject, it ain't too much to state that thar's plenty o'casions when lyin' is not only proper but good.It's the thing to do.

"Comin' to cases, the world's been forever basin' its game on the lies that's told; an' I reckons now if every gent was to turn in an'

tell nothin' but the trooth for the next few hours, thar would be a heap of folks some hard to find at the close of them mootual confidences.Which places now flourishin' like a green bay-tree would be deserted wastes an' solitoodes.Yes, as I says, now I gets plumb cog'tative about it, sech attempts to put down fiction might result in onpreecedented disaster.Thar be times when trooth should shorely have a copper on it; but we lets that pass as spec'lative.

"As my mind is led back along the trail, thar looms before the mirror of mem'ry a hour when the whole Wolfville outfit quits every other game to turn itse'f loose an' lie.Which for once we takes the limit off.Not only do we talk lies, we acts 'em; an' Enright an'

Doc Peets an' Texas Thompson, as well as Moore an' Tutt an' Boggs, to say nothin' of myse'f an' Cherokee Hall, an' the rest of the round-up, gets in on the play.Which every gent stands pat on them inventions to this yere day, disdainin' excooses an' declinin'

forgiveness tharfor.Moreover, we plays the same system ag'in, layout an' deal box bein' sim'lar.The fact is, if ever a outfit's hand gets crowded, it's ours.

"The demands for these yere falsehoods has its first seeds one evenin' when a drunken party comes staggerin' into camp from Red Dog.It's strange; but it looks like Wolfville has a fasc'nation for them Red Dog sots; which they're allers comin' over.This victim of alcohol is not a stranger to us, not by no means; though mostly he holds his revels in his Red Dog home.His name I disremembers, but he goes when he's in Wolfville by the name of 'Whiskey Billy.' If he has a last name, which it's likely some he has, either we never hears it or it don't abide with us.Mebby he never declar's himse'f.

Anyhow, when he gets his nose-paint an' wearies folks in Wolfville, sech proceedin's is had onder the nom de ploome of 'Whiskey Billy,'

with nothin' added by way of further brands or y'ear-marks tharonto.

"This partic'lar date when he onloads on us his companionship, Whiskey Billy is shore the drunkest an' most ediotic I ever sees.

Troo, he saveys enough to pull his freight from Red Dog; but Iallers allows that's merely the work of a loocid interval.

"Whiskey Billy ain't brightened Wolfville with his society more'n an hour--he only gets one drink with us--when he lapses into them treemors.An', you hear me, son, he shorely has 'em bad; Huggins'

attacks that a-way is pooerile to 'em.

"It looks like that Red Dog whiskey is speshul malignant.I've beheld gents who has visions before ever Whiskey Billy emits that preelim'nary yelp in the Red Light, an' allows that Black Jack is pawin' 'round to skelp him; but I'm yere to remark, an' ready to enforce my statements with money, argyments or guns, I never witnesses no case which is a four-spot to Whiskey Billy's.

"Why, it gets so before he quits out--which he does after frothin'

at the mouth for days, an' Boggs, an' Tutt, an' Jack Moore, with Doc Peets soopervisin', ridin' herd onto him an' holdin' him down in his blankets all the time--that if Whiskey Billy goes to take a drink of water, he thinks the beverage turns to blood.If he sees anythin' to eat, it changes into a Gila monster, or some sech creepin' an'

disrepootable reptile; an' Billy jest simply r'ars back an' yells.

"As I intimates, he yields to them errors touchin' his grub an'