“I don’t reckon, Dave, you-all is objectin’ to whiskey none after your ride?”
“Which I ain’t done so usual,” observed Dave cheerfully, “but this yere time, Cherokee, I’ll have to pass. Confidin’ the trooth to you-all, I’m some off on nose-paint now. I’m allowin’ to tell you the win-an’-lose tharof later on. Now, if you-alls will excuse me, I’ll go wanderin’ over to the O. K. House an’ feed myse’f a whole lot.”
“I shore reckons he’s converted!” said Tutt, and he shook his head gloomily. “I wouldn’t care none, only it’s me as prevails on Dave to go over to Tucson that time; an’ so I feels responsible.”
“Whatever of it?” responded Dan Boggs, with a burst of energy, “I don’t see no reecriminations comin’, nor why this yere’s to be regarded. If Dave wants to be relig’ous an’ sing them hymns a heap, you bet! that’s his American right! I’ll gamble a hundred dollars, Dave splits even with every deal, or beats it. I’m with Dave; his system does for me, every time!”
The next day the excitement began to subside. Late in the afternoon a notice posted on the postoffice door caused it to rise again. The notice announced that Short Creek Dave would preach that evening in the warehouse of the New York Store.
“I reckons we-alls better go!” said Cherokee Hall. “I’m goin’ to turn up my box an’ close the game at first drink time this evenin’, an’ Hamilton says he’s out to shut up the dance hall, seein’ as how several of the ladies is due to sing a lot in the choir. We-alls might as well turn loose an’ give Short Creek the best whirl in the wheel – might as well make the play to win, an* start him straight along the new trail.”
“That’s whatever!” agreed Dan Boggs. He had recovered from his first amazement, and now entered into the affair with spirit.
That evening the New York Store’s warehouse was as brilliantly a-light as a mad abundance of candles could make it. All Wolfville was there. As a result of conferences held in private with Short Creek Dave, and by that convert’s request, Old Man Enright took a seat by the drygoods box which was to serve as a pulpit. Doc Peets, also, was asked to assume a place at the Evangelist’s left. The congregation disposed itself about on the improvised benches which the ardour of Boggs had provided.
At 8 o’clock Short Creek Dave walked up the space in the centre reserved as an aisle, carrying a giant Bible. This latter he placed on the drygoods box. Old Man Enright, at a nod from Short Creek Dave, called gently for attention, and addressed the meeting briefly.
“This yere is a prayer meetin’ of the camp,” said Enright, “an’ I’m asked by Dave to preside, which I accordin’ do. No one need make any mistake about the character of this gatherin’, or its brand. This yere is a relig’ous meetin’. I am not myse’f given that a-way, but I’m allers glad to meet up with folks who be, an’ see that they have a chance in for their ante, an’ their game is preserved. I’m one, too, who believes a little religion wouldn’t hurt this yere camp much. Next to a lynchin’, I don’t know of a more excellent inflooence in a western camp than these meetin’s. I ain’t expectin’ to cut in on this play none myse’f, an’ only set yere, as does Peets, in the name of order, an’ for the purposes of a squar’ deal. Which I now introdooces to you a gent who is liable to be as good a preacher as ever thumps a Bible – your old pard, Short Creek Dave.”
“Mr. Pres’dent!” said Short Creek Dave, turning to Enright.
“Short Creek Dave!” replied Enright sententiously, bowing gravely in recognition.
“An’ ladies an’ gents of Wolfville!” continued Dave, “I opens this racket with a prayer.”
The prayer proceeded. It was fervent and earnest; replete with unique expression and personal allusion. In the last, the congregation took a warm interest.
Towards the close, Dave bent his energies in supplication for the regeneration of Texas Thompson, whom he represented in his orisons as by nature good, but living a misguided and vicious life. The audience was listening with approving attention, when there came an interruption. It was from Texas Thompson.
“Mr. Pres’dent,” said Texas Thompson, “I rises to ask a question an’ put for’ard a protest.”
“The gent will state his p’int,” responded Enright, rapping on the drygoods box.
“Which the same is this,” resumed Texas Thompson, drawing a long breath. “I objects to Dave a-tacklin’ the Redeemer for me. I protests ag’in him makin’ statements that I’m ornery enough to pillage a stage. This yere talk is liable to queer me on High. I objects to it!”
“Prayer is a device without rools or limit,” responded Enright. “Dave makes his runnin’ with the bridle off; an* the chair, tharfore, decides ag’in the p’int of order.”
“An’ the same bein’ the case,” rejoined Texas Thompson with heat, “a-waivin’ of the usual appeal to the house, all I’ve got to say is, I’m a peaceful gent; I has allers been the friend of Short Creek Dave. Which I even assists an’ abets Boggs in packin’ in these yere benches, an’ aids to promote this meetin’. But I gives notice now, if Short Creek Dave persists in malignin’ of me to the Great White Throne, as yeretofore, I’ll shore call on him to make them statements good with his gun as soon as ever the contreebution box is passed.”
“The chair informs the gent,” said Enright with cold dignity, “that Dave, bein’ now a Evangelist, can’t make no gun plays, nor go canterin’ out to shoot as of a former day. However, the chair recognises the rights of the gent, an’, standin’ as the chair does in the position of lookout to this game, the chair nom’nates Dan’l Boggs, who’s officiatin’ as deacon hereof, to back these yere orisons with his six-shooter as soon as ever church is out, in person.”
“It goes!” responded Boggs. “I proudly assoomes Dave’s place.”
“Mr. Pres’dent,” interrupted Short Creek Dave, “jest let me get my views in yere. It’s my turn all right, as I makes clear, easy. I’ve looked up things some, an* I finds that the Apostle Peter, who was a great range boss of them days, scroopled not to fight. Which I trails out after Peter in this. I might add, too, that while it gives me pain to be obleeged to shoot up brother Texas Thompson in the first half of the first meetin’ we holds in Wolfville, still the path of dooty is plain, an’ I shall shorely walk tharin, fearin’ nothin’. I tharfore moves we adjourn ten minutes, an’ as thar is plenty of moon outside, if the chair will lend me its gun – I’m not packin’ of sech frivolities no more, regyardin’ of ‘em in the light of sinful bluffs – I trusts to Providence to convince brother Texas Thompson that he’s followed off the wrong waggon track. You-alls can gamble! I knows my business. I ain’t 4-flushin’ none when I lines out to pray!”
“Onless objection is heard, this meetin’ will stand adjourned for ten minutes,” said Enright, at the same time passing Short Creek Dave his pistol.
Fifteen paces were stepped off, and the opponents faced up in the moonlit street. Enright, Peets, Hall, Boggs, Tutt, Moore and the rest of the congregation made a line of admiration on the sidewalk.
“I counts one! two! three! an’ then I drops the contreebution box,” said Enright, “whereupon you-alls fires an’ advances at will. Be you ready?”
The shooting began on the word. When the smoke blew away, Texas Thompson staggered to the sidewalk and sat down. There was a bullet in his hip, and the wound, for the moment, brought a feeling of sickness.
“The congregation will now take its seats in the sanctooary,” remarked Enright, “an’ play will be re-soomed. Tutt, two of you-alls carry Texas over to the hotel, an’ fix him up all right. Yereafter, I’ll visit him an’ p’int out his errors. This shows concloosive that Short Creek Dave is licensed from Above to pray any gait for whoever he deems meet, an’ I’m mighty pleased it occurs. It’s shore goin’ to promote confidence in Dave’s ministrations.”
The concourse was duly in its seats when Short Creek Dave again reached the pulpit.
“I will now resoome my intercessions for our onfortunate brother, Texas Thompson,” said Short Creek Dave.
“I know’d he would,” commented Dan Boggs, as twenty dollars came over addressed by the wounded Thompson to the contribution box. “Texas Thompson is one of the reasonablest sports in Wolfville. Also you can bet! relig’ous trooths allers assert themse’ves.”
CRIME THAT FAILED
(Annals of the Bend)Say! Matches,” said Chucky, removing his nose from his glass, “youse remember d’ Jersey Bank? I means d’ time youse has to go to cover an ‘d’ whole mob is pinched in d’ hole. Tell us d’ story; it’s dead int’restin’.”
This last was to me in a husky whisper.
“That play was a case of fail,” remarked Mollie Matches thoughtfully. Then turning to me as chief auditor, he continued. “It’s over twenty years ago; just on d’ heels of d’ Centenyul at Phil’delfy. D’ graft was fairly flossy durin ‘d’ Centenyul, an’ I had quite a pot of dough.
“One day a guy comes to me; he’s a bank woiker, what d’ fly people calls ‘a gopher man’; he’s a mug who’s onto all d’ points about safes an’ such. Well, as I says, this soon guy comes chasin’ to me.
“‘Matches,’ he says, ‘don’t say a woid; I’ll put youse onto an easy trick. Come wit’ me to Jersey, an’ I’ll show you a bin what’s all organised to be cracked. Any old hobo could toin off d’ play; it’s a walk-over.’
“Wit’ that, for I had confidence in this mark, see! We skins over to Jersey, an’ he steers me out to a nearby town an’ points me out a bank. What makes it a good t’ing is a vacant joint, wit’ a ‘To Rent’ sign in d’ window, built dost ag’inst d’ side of d’ bank.
“‘Are youse on?’ says d’ goph, pointin’ his main hook at d’ empty house, an’ then at d’ bank.
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