It
was like thinking it of another woman, who was dead, and whose name was
cut under his father's in the old cottonwood tree.

Stampede, having gained his wind, was saying: "You don't seem
interested, Alan. But I'm going on, or I'll bust. I've got to tell you
what happened, and then if you want to lead me out and shoot me, I won't
say a word. I say, curse a firecracker anyway!"

"Go on," urged Alan. "I'm interested."

"I got 'em on the boat," continued Stampede viciously. "And she with me
every minute, smiling in that angel way of hers, and not letting me out
of her sight a flick of her eyelash, unless there was only one hole to
go in an' come out at. And then she said she wanted to do a little
shopping, which meant going into every shack in town and buyin'
something, an' I did the lugging. At last she bought a gun, and when I
asked her what she was goin' to do with it, she said, 'Stampede, that's
for you,' an' when I went to thank her, she said: 'No, I don't mean it
that way. I mean that if you try to run away from me again I'm going to
fill you full of holes.' She said that! Threatened me. Then she bought
me a new outfit from toe to summit--boots, pants, shirt, hat _and_ a
necktie! And I didn't say a word, not a word. She just led me in an'
bought what she wanted and made me put 'em on."

Stampede drew in a mighty breath, and a fourth time wasted a match on
his pipe. "I was getting used to it by the time we reached Tanana," he
half groaned. "Then the hell of it begun. She hired six Indians to tote
the luggage, and we set out over the trail for your place. 'You're
goin' to have a rest, Stampede,' she says to me, smiling so cool and
sweet like you wanted to eat her alive. 'All you've got to do is show us
the way and carry the bums.' 'Carry the what?' I asks. 'The bums,' she
says, an' then she explains that a bum is a thing filled with powder
which makes a terrible racket when it goes off. So I took the bums, and
the next day one of the Indians sprained a leg, and dropped out. He had
the firecrackers, pretty near a hundred pounds, and we whacked up his
load among us. I couldn't stand up straight when we camped. We had
crooks in our backs every inch of the way to the Range. And _would_ she
let us cache some of that junk? Not on your life she wouldn't! And all
the time while they was puffing an' panting them Indians was worshipin'
her with their eyes. The last day, when we camped with the Range almost
in sight, she dr