ar's that she
discovers Bowlaigs organisin' to devour her child Enright Peets Tutt,
who's at that epock comin' three the next spring round-up.

"'I could read it in that Bowlaigs b'ar's eyes,' says Jennie, 'an' it's
mighty lucky a parent's faculties is plumb keen. If I hadn't got in on
the play with my broom, you can bet that inordinate Bowlaigs would have
done eat little Enright Peets all up.

"Shore, no one credits these yere apprehensions of Jennie's; Bowlaigs
would no more have chewed up Enright Peets than he'd played
table-stakes with him; but a fond mother's fears once stampeded is not
to be headed off or ca'med, an' Bowlaigs has to shift his camp a heap.

"Bowlaigs takes up his abode on the heels of him bein' run out by
Tucson Jennie, over to the corral; that is, he bunks in thar temp'rary
at least. An' he shore grows amazin', an' enlarges doorin' the next
three months to sech a degree that when he stands up to the counter in
the Red Light, acceptin' of some proffered drink, Bowlaigs comes clost
to bein' as tall as folks. He early learns throughout his wakeful
moments--what I'd deescribe as his business hours--to make the Red
Light a hang-out; it's the nosepaint he's hankerin' after, for in no
time at all Bowlaigs accoomulates a appetite for rum that's a fa'r
match for that of either Huggins or Old Monte, an' them two sots is for
long known as far west as the Colorado an' as far no'th as the Needles
as the offishul drunkards of Arizona. No; Bowlaigs ain't equal to
pourin' down the raw nosepaint; but Black Jack humours his weakness an'
Bowlaigs is wont to take off his libations about two parts water to one
of whiskey an' a lump of sugar in the bottom, outen one of these big
tumbler glasses; meanwhiles standin' at the bar an' holdin' the glass
between his two paws an' all as ackerate an' steady as the most
talented inebriate.

"'An' Bowlaigs has this distinction,' says Black Jack, alloodin' to the
sugar an' water; 'he's shore the only gent for whom I so far onbends
from reg'lar rools as to mix drinks.'

"Existence goes flowin' onward like some glad sweet song for Bowlaigs
for mighty likely it's two months an' nothin' remarkable eventuates.
He camps in over to the corral, an' except that new ponies, who ain't
onto Bowlaigs, commonly has heart-failure at the sight of him, he don't
found no disturbances nor get in anybody's way. Throughout his wakin'
hours, as I su'gests former, Bowlaigs ha'nts about the Red