men in that section
were victims of strange hallucinations and harborers of nefarious
suspicions. Although Clubfoot was credited with large numbers of dead
steers found on the ranges, he was conscious of his own innocence, due
to some extent to the loss of most of his teeth, and he had better
reason than the cow-men had for putting it up to Jerky.

These particulars concerning Mr. Johnson's vocation enable the reader
to appreciate the emotions aroused in the breast of Old Clubfoot when
he found a newspaper blowing about a bee ranch and saw a thrilling
account of his own death at the hands of the redoubtable Jerky Johnson.
He had just tipped over a hive and was about to fill up with luscious
white sage honey when that deplorably sensational newspaper fluttered
under his eye and the scandalous fabrication of Jerky stared him in the
face. "This is the limit," he moaned, and his great heart broke.

Slowly and painfully the poor old bear staggered down the valley. His
eyes were glazed and he could not tell where the trees and barb-wire
fences were until he butted his nose against them. The gout in his
maimed foot throbbed horribly, and all the loose bullets in his system
seemed to have assembled in his chest and taken the place of his once
stout heart. But he had a fixed purpose in his mind, and on he went to
its fulfillment, grimly determined to make a fitting finish to a
romantic life.

At the lower end of the valley lived the country doctor. To his house
came the club-footed bear at midnight, worn and nearly spent with the
pitiful journey. There was a dim light in the back office, but it was
unoccupied. Clubfoot heaved his bulk against the door and broke the
lock, softly entered the room and sniffed anxiously of the rows of jars
and bottles upon a shelf. His eyes were dim and he could not read the
labels, but his nose was still keen and he knew he should find what he
was seeking. He found it. Taking down a two-gallon jar, Clubfoot
tucked it under his arm tenderly and walked out erect, just as in the
old days he was wont to walk away from a farmyard with a calf or a pig
under each arm. It has been said of him that he could carry off a
steer in that fashion, but probably that is an exaggeration or even a
fable.

Behind the doctor's stable was a bucket containing the sponge used in
washing the doctor's carriage. Clubfoot found the bucket, broke the
two-gallon jar upon the sharp edge and spilled the contents