tured lot.

While the Cross Canonites were liquoring at the Fashion Bar (Circuit
drinking sarsaparilla), Lame Johny, the barkeeper, remarked: "You-uns
missed it a lot, not seein' the pr'cesh. She were a ring-tailed tooter
for fair, with the damnedest biggest noise-makin' band you ever heard,
an' th' p'rformers wearin' more pr'tys than I ever allowed was made.
An' say, they've got a gal in th' bunch, rider I reckon, that's jest
that damned good to look at it _hurts_. Damned ef I kin git her outen
my eyes yet. Say, she's shore prittier than airy red wagon in th' show
built like a quarter horse, got eyes like a doe, and a sorrel mane she
could hide in. She 's sure a _chile con carne_ proposition, if I ever
see one."

"Huh!" grunted Lee; "may be a good-looker, but I'll gamble she ain't in
it with our Sorrel-top; hey, boys? Here 's to _our_ Sorrel-top,
fellers, an' th' day Circuit prances into Mancos wi' her."

Several who tried to drink and cheer at the same time lost much of
their liquor, but none of their enthusiasm. After dinner at
Charpiot's, a wretched counterfeit of the splendid old Denver
restaurant of that name, the Cross Canonites joined the throng
streaming toward the circus.

For his sobriety designated treasurer of the outfit for the day and
night, Circuit marched up to the ticket wagon, passed in a hundred
dollar bill and asked for thirty tickets. The tickets and change were
promptly handed him. On the first count the change appeared to be
correct, but on a recount Circuit found the ticket-seller had cunningly
folded one twenty double, so that it appeared as two bills instead of
one. Turning immediately to the ticket-seller, Circuit showed the
deception and demanded correction.

"Change was right; you can't dope and roll me; gwan!" growled the
ticket-agent.

"But it's plumb wrong, an' you can't rob me none, you kiyote," answered
Circuit; "hand out another twenty, and do it sudden!"

"Chase yourself to hell, you bow-legged hold-up," threatened the
ticket-seller.

When, a moment later, the ticket man plunged out of the door of his
wagon wildly yelling for his clan, it was with eyes flooding with blood
from a gash in his forehead due to a resentful tap from the barrel of
Circuit's gun.

Almost in an instant pandemonium reigned and a massacre was imminent.
Stalwart canvasmen rushed to their chief's call till Circuit's bunch
were outnumbered three to one by tough trained battlers on many a
tent