roke out?"

"Whoosh! Damn no-good squaw man get all Injins drunk on whiskey; then
play poker with four aces. 'What you got? No good--four aces--hard
luck--deal 'em up!'" Pete's flexible wrists here flashed in pantomime.
"Pretty soon Injin got no mules, no blanket, no spring wagon, no gun, no
new boots, no nine dollars my old mahala gets paid for three bushel wild
plums from Old Lady Pettengill to make canned goods of--only got one big
sick head from all night; see four aces, four kings, four jacks. 'What
you got, Pete? No good. Full house here. Hard luck--my deal. Have
another drink, old top!'"

"Well, what did your brother-in-law do when he heard about this?"

"Something!"

"Shoot?"

"Naw; got no gun left. Choke him on the neck--I think this way."

The supple hands of Pete here clutched his corded throat, fingertips
meeting at the back, and two potent thumbs uniting in a sinister
pressure upon his Adam's apple. To further enlarge my understanding he
contorted his face unprettily. From rolling eyes and outthrust tongue it
was apparent that the squaw man had survived long enough to regret the
inveteracy of his good luck at cards.

"Then what?"

"Man tell you before?" He eyed me with frank suspicion.

"Certainly; you tell, too!"

"That b'other-in-law he win everything back this poor squaw man don't
need no more, and son-of-gun beat it quick; so all liars say Old Pete
turn that trick, but can't prove same, because my b'other-in-law do same
in solitude. And old judge say: 'Oh, well, can't prove same in
courthouse, and only good squaw man is dead squaw man; so
what-the-bad-place!' I think mebbe."

"Go on; what about that next time?"

"You know already," said Pete firmly.

"You tell, too."

He pondered this, his keen little eyes searching my face as he pensively
fondled the axe.

"You know about this time that son-of-gun go 'n' kill a bright lawyer in
Red Gap? I think that cap the climax!"

"Certainly, I know!" This with bored impatience.

"I think, then, you tell me." His seamed face was radiant with cunning.

"What's the use? You know it already."

He countered swiftly:

"What's use I tell you--you know already."

I yawned again flagrantly.

"Now you tell in your own way how this trouble first begin," persisted
Pete rather astonishingly. He seemed to quote from memory.

Once more I yawned, turning coldly away.

"You tell in your own words," he was again gently urging; but on the
instant his