That's all thar is to it. The tide
of life ag'in flows onward to the eternal sea, an' nary ripple.

"Oh, this yere Wolfville dooel! Well, it's this a-way. The day is
blazin' hot, an' business layin' prone an' dead--jest blistered to
death. A passel of us is sorter pervadin' round the dance-hall, it
bein' the biggest an' coolest store in camp. A monte game is
strugglin' for breath in a feeble, fitful way in a corner, an' some of
us is a-watch'in'; an' some a-settin' 'round loose a-thinkin'; but all
keepin mum an' still, 'cause it's so hot.

"Jest then some gent on a hoss goes whoopin' up the street a-yellin'
an' a-whirlin' the loop of his rope, an' allowin' generally he's havin'
a mighty good time.

"'Who's this yere toomultuous man on the hoss?' says Enright,
a-regardin' of him in a displeased way from the door.

"'I meets him up the street a minute back,' says Dan Boggs, 'an' he
allows he's called "The Man from Red Dog." He says he's took a day off
to visit us, an' aims to lay waste the camp some before he goes back.'

"About then the Red Dog man notes old Santa Rosa, who keeps the Mexican
_baile_ hall, an' his old woman, Marie, a-fussin' with each other in
front of the New York Store. They's locked horns over a drink or
something an' is powwowin' mighty onamiable.

"'Whatever does this yere Mexican fam'ly mean,' says the Red Dog man,
a-surveyin' of 'em plenty scornful, 'a-draggin' of their domestic
brawls out yere to offend a sufferin' public for? Whyever don't they
stay in their wickeyup an' fight, an' not take to puttin' it all over
the American race which ain't in the play' none an' don't thirst
tharfor? However, I unites an' reeconciles this divided household
easy.'

"With this the Red Dog man drops the loop of his lariat round the two
contestants an' jumps his bronco up the street like it's come outen a
gun. Of course Santa Rosa an' Marie goes along on their heads
permiscus.

"They goes coastin' along ontil they gets pulled into a mesquite-bush,
an' the rope slips offen the saddle, an' thar they be. We-alls goes
over from the dance-hall, extricatin' of 'em, an' final they rounds up
mighty hapless an' weak, an' can only walk. They shorely lose enough
hide to make a pair of leggin's.

"'Which I brings 'em together like twins,' says the Red Dog man, ridin'
back for his rope. 'I offers two to one, no limit, they don't fight
none whatever for a month.'

"Which, as it shorely looks like he's r