wizard holdin' on.

"'Gents, that ball of kyarpet-rags never does come down no-more! An'
it's all done as easy as a set-lock rifle! The wizard climbs the
danglin' string of kyarpet-rags, hand over hand; then he drifts off an'
up'ards ontil he don't look bigger than a bumble-bee; an' then he's
lost in the gatherin' shadows of the Jooly night.

"'Squar' Alexanders, Chet, an' the village stands strainin' their eyes
for twenty minutes. But the wizard's vamosed; an' at last, when each
is convinced tharof, the grown folks led by Squar' Alexanders reepairs
back into the tavern an' takes another drink.'

"'That's a mighty marvellous feat your necromancer performs, Colonel,'
remarks Enright, an' the old chief is grave as becomes the Colonel's
revelations; 'he's a shore-enough wonder-worker, that wizard is!'

"But I ain't got to the wonders none as yet,' reemonstrates the
Colonel, who spunks up a bit peevish for him. 'An' from the frequent
way wherein I'm interrupted, it don't look much like I will. Goin'
sailin' away into darklin' space with that ball of enchanted
kyarpet-rags,--that ain't the sooper-nacheral part at all! Shore!
ondoubted it's some hard to do as a feat, but still thar's other
feachers which from the standp'int of the marvellous overpowers it like
four kings an' a ace. That wonder is this: It's quarter to eight when
the wizard takes his flight by means of the kyarpet-rags. Gents, at
eight o'clock sharp the same evenin' he walks on the stage an' gives a
show at St. Looey, hundreds of miles away.'"

CHAPTER XIX.

The Luck of Hardrobe.

"Which I tells this yere narrative first, back in one of them good old
Red Light evenin's when it's my turn to talk."

The Old Cattleman following this remark, considered me for a moment in
silence. I had myself been holding the floor of discussion in a way both
rambling and pointless for some time. I had spoken of the national
fortune of Indians, their superstitions, their ill-luck, and other savage
subjects various and sundry. My discourse had been remarkable perhaps
for emphasis rather than accuracy; and this too held a purpose. It was
calculated to rouse my raconteur and draw him to a story. Did what I say
lack energy, he might go to sleep in his chair; he had done this more
than once when I failed of interest. Also, if what I told were wholly
true and wanting in ripple of romantic error, even though my friend did
me the compliment of wakefulness, he