ant practice I
soon became known as the best shot in the Arizona and pan handle
country.

After the buffalo hunt we were sent down in Old Mexico to get a herd of
horses, that our boss had bought from the Mexicans in the southwestern
part of Old Mexico. We made the journey out all right without special
incident, but after we had got the horses out on the trail, headed north
I was possessed with a desire to show off and I thought surprise the
staid old greasers on whom we of the northern cattle country looked with
contempt. So accordingly I left the boys to continue with the herd,
while I made for the nearest saloon, which happened to be located in one
of the low mud houses of that country, with a wide door and clay floor.
As the door was standing open, and looked so inviting I did not want to
go to the trouble of dismounting so urging my horse forward, I rode in
the saloon, first however, scattering with a few random shots the
respectable sized crowd of dirty Mexicans hanging around as I was in no
humor to pay for the drinks for such a motley gathering. Riding up to
the bar, I ordered keller for myself and a generous measure of pulky for
my horse, both popular Mexican drinks.

[Illustration: I Lose My Lariat and Saddle--I Hit the Hardest Spot in
that Part of Texas]

The fat wobbling greaser who was behind the bar looked scared, but he
proceeded to serve us with as much grace as he could command. My
forty-five colt which I proceeded to reload, acting as a persuader.
Hearing a commotion outside I realized that I was surrounded. The crowd
of Mexican bums had not appreciated my kindly greeting as I rode up and
it seems did not take kindly to being scattered by bullets. And not
realizing that I could have killed them all, just as easy as I scattered
them, and seeing there was but two of us--I and my horse--they had
summoned sufficient courage to come back and seek revenge. There was a
good sized crowd of them, every one with some kind of shooting iron, and
I saw at once that they meant business. I hated to have to hurt some of
them but I could see I would have to or be taken myself, and perhaps
strung up to ornament a telegraph pole. This pleasant experience I had
no especial wish to try, so putting spurs to my horse I dashed out of
the saloon, then knocking a man over with every bullet from my Colts I
cut for the open country, followed by several volleys from the angry
Mexicans' pop guns.

[Illustration: I Take Charge o