r comin' blind baggage; religion sorter tags behind and
waits for the chair-car. I don't think much of this town, either. It
seems like it was full of nothin' but sand, saloons, beer-bottles, and
bums. Are yuh one of 'em?" she inquired, with a sudden thrust that
startled Cassidy beyond bounds.

"A _bum_, ma'am?" gasped Cassidy.

"No; a preacher."

"I reckon not," said Cassidy definitely.

"I didn't know," said the woman vaguely. "I never saw one. Edgard an'
me was married by the county clerk down tuh Hackberry, and he tried
tuh kiss me, and Edgard shot him. Those would be mighty unfortunate
manners for a preacher, I reckon. And now I'm all tired out and don't
know what tuh do. That man outside let me sit down in here, and made
me bring the coffin right inside,--he carried it in himself,--but he
didn't seem tuh know much about preachers, either. If I was a Mormon I
s'pose I could divide up the buryin' some, but I'm all alone now."

In a moment of unreflecting insanity Cassidy opened his mouth. "I'll
help yuh, ma'am!" he said gallantly.

"All right," responded the widowed woman instantly. "Yuh kin lead."

Cassidy paled perceptibly under his tan.

"Now don't back out," she said, "even if yuh do feel sick. Mebbe some
whisky would hearten yuh up." And she went quickly to the door.

Cassidy sat still in his chair, making up his mind--about the whisky.

"There!" said Sarah Gentry, suddenly appearing with a glass which she
set on the coffin. "Looks real good, don't it?"

Cassidy's forehead was damp with perspiration. Inside of him something
was clamoring frightfully for the stuff in the glass. Something seemed
gnawing at his very heart and soul, threatening and pleading, begging
and insisting, fashioning devilish excuses, promising great things.
Cassidy's hand stretched slowly out for the drink--and came back.
There was a silence. The woman fixed her large, strong eyes on his.
Again he reached out his hand, and his face was strained and
unpleasant to look upon. But again he stopped before he took the
glass. A horse had whinnied outside. Cassidy shook his head grimly.
Putting his toe against the glass, he deftly kicked it into the
corner. "I reckon not," he said.

The woman jumped to her feet.

"Git up!" she said impulsively. "Git up and shake hands. You're a
_man_! And now we'll go out and git tuh buryin'."

A little party of six was assembled in a gulch in the sand-hills. The
coffin, marked only with a card, l