so much like wood it floats. Shore;
Emil--which this yere genius' name is Emil--as a artist that a-way is
as good as jacks-up before the draw.

"The hypnotic professor runs his eye over the audjence. In a moment
he's onto Emil, an' begins to w'irl his hypnotic rope. It's Emil bein'
thin an' weakly an' bloodless, I reckon, that attracts him. This yere
Emil ain't got bodily stren'th to hold his own ag'in a high wind, an'
the professor is on at a glance that, considered from standp'ints of
hypnotism, he ought to be a pushover.

"Emil don't hone to be no subject, but them Bernilillo hold-ups
snatches onto him in spite of his protests, an' passes him up onto the
stage to the professor. They're plenty headlong, not to say boorish,
them Bernilillo ruffians be; speshully if they've sot their hearts on
anythin', an' pore Emil stands about the same show among 'em as a
cottontail rabbit among a passel of owls.

"For myse'f, I allers adheres to a theery that what follows is to be
laid primar'ly to the door of the Bernilillo pop'lace. Which it's
themselves, not the professor, they'd oughter've strung up. You see
this Emil artist person blinks out onder the spells of the professor,
an' never does come to no more. The professor hypnotizes Emil, but he
can't onhypnotize him. Thar he sets as dead as Davy Crockett.

"This yere Emil bein' shore dead, Bernilillo sent'ment begins to churn
an' wax active. Thar ain't a well-conditioned vig'lance committee
between the Pecos an' the Colorado which, onder the circumstances,
would have dreamed of stretchin' that professor. What he does, them
Bernilillo dolts forces him to do. As for deceased, his ontimely
evaporation that a-way is but the frootes of happenstance.

"What cares the Bernilillo pop'lace, wolf hungry for blood? In the
droppin' of a sombrero they've cinched onto the professor, an' the
only question left open is whether they'll string him up to the town
windmill or the sign in front of the First National Bank.

"While them Bernilillo wolves is howlin' an' mobbin' an' millin'
'round the professor--who himse'f is scared plumb speechless an' is as
white as a lump of chalk--relief pushes to the front in most
onexpected shape. It's a kyard sharp by the name of Singleton,
otherwise called the Planter, who puts himse'f in nom'nation to
extricate the professor.

"Climbin' onto the top step in front of the bank, the Planter lifts up
his voice for a hearin'.

"'Folks!' he shouts, 'I'm i