communication. "Well, what's the matter with his
hoping you'll be all right soon?"

"No reason why he shouldn't. It only shows what a Christian, forgiving
disposition he's got. You see, that day I most walked my leg off I
soused Mr. Pesquiera in a ditch."

"You--what?"

"Just what I say. I picked him up and dropped the gentleman in the
nearest ditch. That's why he's so anxious to get me well."

"But--why for, boy?"

Dick laughed. "Can't you see, you old moss-back? He wants me well enough
to call out for a duel."

"A duel." Davis stared at him dubiously. He did not know whether or not
his friend was making game of him.

"Yes, sir. Pistols and coffee for two, waiter. That sort of thing."

"But folks don't fight duels nowadays," remonstrated the puzzled miner.
"Anyhow, what's he want to fight about? I reckon you didn't duck him for
nothing, did you? What was it all about?"

Dick told his tale of adventures, omitting only certain emotions that
were his private property. He concluded with an account of the
irrigating-ditch episode. "It ain't the custom in this part of the
country to duck the blue bloods. Shouldn't wonder but what he's some hot
under the collar. Writes like he sees red, don't you think, but aims to
be polite and keep his shirt on."

Davis refused to treat the matter as a joke.

"I told you to let your lawyers 'tend to this, Dick, and for you not to
poke your nose into this neck of the woods. But you had to come, and
right hot off the reel you hand one to this Pesky fellow, or whatever
you call him. Didn't I tell you that you can't bat these greasers over
the head the way you can the Poles in the mines?"

"Sure you told me. You're always loaded with good advice, Steve. But
what do you expect me to do when a fellow slaps my face?"

"They won't stand fooling with, these greasers. This Pesky fellow is
playing squarer than most would if he gives you warning to be ready with
your six-gun. You take my advice, and you'll burn the wind out of this
country. If you git this fellow, the whole pack of them will be on top
of you, and don't you forget it, son."

"So you advise me to cut and run, do you?" said Dick.

"You bet."

"That's what you'd do, is it?"

"Sure thing. You can't clean out the whole of New Mexico."

"Quit your lying, Steve, you old war-horse. You'd see it out, just like
I'm going to."

Davis scratched his grizzled poll and grinned, but continued to dispense
good advice.

"You a