estaurant and also got warm. But he
hadn't no more than got warm when he was put out of the place, right by
his own people.

It was warm outside by this time, so he didn't mind it so much. The town
did, though. It must of been a small town, but he says thousands of men
chased him out of it about as soon as he was warmed up enough to run. He
couldn't understand this, because how could they know he was the one that
caused all that trouble in San Francisco?

He got a freight train outside the town and rode on and on. He says
he rode on for weeks and weeks; but that's his imagination. It must of
been about three days, with spells of getting off for food and to get
warmed when he was freezing, and be chased by these wild hill tribes when
he had done the latter. It put a crimp into his sunny nature--all this
armed pursuit of him. He says if he had been a Christian, and believed
in only one God, he would never of come through alive, it taking about
seventy-four or five of his own gods to protect him from these maddened
savages. He had a continuous nightmare of harsh words and blows. He
wondered they didn't put him in jail; but it seemed like they only
wanted to keep him going.

Of course it had to end. He got to Spokane finally and sneaked round to
a friend that had a laundry; and this friend must of been a noble soul.
He took in the outcast and nursed him with food and drink, and repeatedly
washed his clothes. Wanting a ranch cook about that time, I got in touch
with him through another cousin, who said this man wanted very much to
go out into a safe country, and would never leave it because of
unpleasantness in getting here.

It was ten days after he got there that I saw him first, and I'll be
darned if he was any human sachet, even then. But after hearing his story
I knew that time would once more make him fit for human association.
He told me his story with much feeling this time and he told it to me
about once a week for three months after he got here--pieces of it at a
time. It used to cheer me a lot. He was always remembering something new.
He said he liked the great silence and peace of this spot.

You couldn't tell him to this day that his belief about the savage hill
tribes ain't sound. He believes anything "can happen" in that country
down there. Doctor Hong Foy never paid him the twenty-five, of course,
though admitting that he would of done so if the animal had not escaped,
because he was in such good conditi