squanderin' along to contradict.
Mebby you'll say that the omission to do so is doo to the f'rocious
attitoode of the _Daily Coyote_ itse'f, techin' contradictions, an'
p'int to how that imprint keeps standin' at the head of its editorial
columns as a motto, the cynicism:

"'Contradict the _Coyote_ and avoid old age!'

"Thar'd be nothin' in it if you do. That motto's only one of Colonel
Sterett's bluffs, one of his witticisms that a-way. You don't reckon
that, in a sparsely settled country, whar the pop'lation is few an'
far between, the Colonel's goin' to go bumpin' off a subscriber over
mebby a mere difference of opinion? The Colonel ain't quite that
locoed."

"But about your Wolfville-Red Dog Fourth of July celebration?" I
urged.

"Which I'm in no temper to tell a story--me settin' yere with every
nerve as tight as a banjo catgut jest before it snaps. To reelate
yarns your mood ought to be the mood of the racontoor--a mood as rich
an' rank an' upstandin' as a field of wheat, ready to billow an' bend
before every gale of fancy. The way yesterday leaves me, whatever tale
I ondertakes to reecount would about come out of my mouth as stiff an'
short an' brittle as chopped hay. Also, as tasteless. Better let it go
till some other an' more mellow evenin'."

No; I was ready to accept the chances, and said as much. A chopped-hay
style, for a change, might be found acceptable. Supplementing the
declaration with renewed Old Jordan, I was so far victorious that my
aged man of cattle yielded.

"Well, then," he began reluctantly, "I'm onable to partic'larly say
which gent does make the orig'nal s'ggestion, but my belief is it's
Peets. I'm shore, however, that the Cornwallis idee comes from Bland;
an', since it's not only at that Cornwallis angle we-all falls
publicly down, but the same is primar'ly doo to the besotted obstinacy
of this yere Bland himse'f, Wolfville, while ever proudly willin' to
b'ar whatever blame's sawed off on to her shoulders proper, is always
convinced that Red Dog an' not us is to be held accountable. However,
Bland's gone an' paid what the sky scouts speaks of as the debt to
nacher, an' I'm willin' to confess for one that when he's sober he
ain't so bad. Not that them fits of sobriety is either so freequent or
so protracted they takes on any color of monotony.

"Bland's baptismal name is Pete, an' in his way he's a leadin'
inflooence in Red Dog. He's owner of the 7-bar-D outfit, y'earmark a
swall