kes the team strung all along between my camp an'
Tramperos. Peter, the little lead mule, bein' plumb agile an' a sharp on
hobbles, gets cl'ar thar; an' I finds him devourin' the goddess gray mare
with heart an' soul an' eyes, an' singin' to himse'f the while in low,
satisfied tones.

"As one after the other I passes the pilgrim mules I turns an' lifts
about a squar' inch of hide off each with the blacksnake whip I'm
carryin', by way of p'intin' out their heresies an arousin' in 'em a
eagerness to get back to their waggons an' a' upright, pure career. They
takes the chastisement humble an' dootiful, an' relinquishes the thought
of reachin' the goddess gray mare.

"When I overtakes old Jerry I pours the leather into him speshul, an' the
way him an' his pard Tom goes scatterin' for camp refreshes me a heap.
An' yet after I rescoos Peter from the demoralisin' inflooences of the
gray mare, an' begins to pick up the other members of the team on the
journey back, I'm some deepressed when I don't see Tom or Jerry. Nor is
either of them mules by the waggons when I arrives.

"It's onadulterated cussedness! Jerry, with no hobbles an' merely
draggin' a rope, can lope about free an' permiscus. Tom, with nothin' to
hamper him but his love for Jerry, is even more lightsome an' loose.
That Jerry mule, hatin' me an' allowin' to make me all the grief he can,
sneakingly leaves the trail some'ers after I turns him an' touches him up
with the lash. An' now Tom an' Jerry is shorely hid out an' lost a whole
lot. It's nothin' but Jerry's notion of revenge on me.

"I camps two days where I'm at, an rounds up the region for the trooants.
I goes over it like a fine-tooth comb an' rides James to a show-down.
That bronco never is so long onder the saddle since he's foaled; I don't
reckon he knows before thar's so much hard work in the world as falls to
him when we goes ransackin' in quest of Tom an' Jerry.

"It's no use; the ground is hard an' dry an' I can't even see their
hoof-marks. The country's so rollin', too, it's no trouble for 'em to
hide. At last I quits an' throws my hand in the diskyard. Tom an' Jerry
is shore departed an' I'm deeficient my two best mules. I hooks up the
others, an' seein' it's down hill an' a easy trail I makes Tascosa an'
refits.

"I never crosses up on Tom an' Jerry in this yere life no more, but one
day I learns their fate. It's a month later on my next trip back, an'
I'm camped about a half day's