the outlet-第37部分

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　little　reunion　of　me　and　my　dog；　there　in　those　woods　that　morning。　Why；　he　howled　with　delight。　He　licked　my　face　and　hands　and　stood　up　on　me　with　his　wet　feet　and　said　just　as　plain　as　he　could　that　he　was　glad　to　see　me　again。　And　I　was　glad　to　meet　him；　even　though　he　did　make　me　feel　as　mellow　as　a　girl　over　a　baby。

〃Well；　when　daybreak　came；　I　shot　a　nice　big　fat　Mr。　Zip　Coon　out　of　an　old　pin…oak；　and　we　started　for　home　like　old　pardners。　Old　as　he　was；　he　played　like　a　puppy　around　me；　and　when　we　came　in　sight　of　the　house；　he　ran　on　ahead　and　told　the　folks　what　he　had　found。　Yes；　you　bet　he　told　them。　He　came　near　clawing　all　the　clothing　off　them　in　his　delight。　That's　one　reason　I　always　like　a　dog　and　a　poor　manyou　can't　question　their　friendship。〃

A　circus　was　in　progress　on　the　other　side　of　the　wagon。　From　a　large　rock；　Jake　Blair　was　announcing　the　various　acts　and　introducing　the　actors　and　actresses。　Runt　Pickett；　wearing　a　skirt　made　out　of　a　blanket　and　belted　with　a　hobble；　won　the　admiration　of　all　as　the　only　living　lady　lion…tamer。　Resuming　comfortable　positions　on　our　side　of　the　commissary；　a　lad　named　Waterwall；　one　of　Sponsilier's　boys；　took　up　the　broken　thread　where　Forrest's　wrangler　had　left　off。

〃The　greatest　dog…man　I　ever　knew；〃　said　he；　〃lived　on　the　Guadalupe　River。　His　name　was　Dave　Hapfinger；　and　he　had　the　loveliest　vagabond　temperament　of　any　man　I　ever　saw。　It　mattered　nothing　what　he　was　doing；　all　you　had　to　do　was　to　give　old　Dave　a　hint　that　you　knew　where　there　was　fish　to　be　caught；　or　a　bee…course　to　hunt；　and　he　would　stop　the　plow　and　go　with　you　for　a　week　if　necessary。　He　loved　hounds　better　than　any　man　I　ever　knew。　You　couldn't　confer　greater　favor　than　to　give　him　a　promising　hound　pup；　or；　seek　ing　the　same；　ask　for　one　of　his　raising。　And　he　was　such　a　good　fellow。　If　any　one　was　sick　in　the　neighborhood；　Uncle　Dave　always　had　time　to　kill　them　a　squirrel　every　day；　and　he　could　make　a　broth　for　a　baby；　or　fry　a　young　squirrel；　in　a　manner　that　would　make　a　sick　man's　mouth　water。

〃When　I　was　a　boy；　I've　laid　around　many　a　camp…fire　this　way　and　listened　to　old　Dave　tell　stories。　He　was　quite　a　humorist　in　his　way；　and　possessed　a　wonderful　memory。　He　could　tell　you　the　day　of　the　month；　thirty　years　before；　when　he　went　to　mill　one　time　and　found　a　peculiar　bird's　nest　on　the　way。　Colonel　Andrews；　owner　of　several　large　plantations；　didn't　like　Dave；　and　threatened　to　prosecute　him　once　for　cutting　a　bee…tree　on　his　land。　If　the　evidence　had　been　strong　enough；　I　reckon　the　Colonel　would。　No　doubt　Uncle　Dave　was　guilty；　but　mere　suspicion　isn't　sufficient　proof。

〃Colonel　Andrews　was　a　haughty　old　fellow；　blue…blooded　and　proud　as　a　peacock；　and　about　the　only　way　Dave　could　get　even　with　him　was　in　his　own　mild；　humorous　way。　One　day　at　dinner　at　a　neighboring　log…rolling；　when　all　danger　of　prosecution　for　cutting　the　bee…tree　had　passed；　Uncle　Dave　told　of　a　recent　dream　of　his；　a　pure　invention。　'I　dreamt；'　said　he；　'that　Colonel　Andrews　died　and　went　to　heaven。　There　was　an　unusually　big　commotion　at　St。　Peter's　gate　on　his　arrival。　A　troop　of　angels　greeted　him；　still　the　Colonel　seemed　displeased　at　his　reception。　But　the　welcoming　hosts　humored　him　forward；　and　on　nearing　the　throne；　the　Almighty；　recognizing　the　distinguished　arrival；　vacated　the　throne　and　came　down　to　greet　the　Colonel　personally。　At　this　mark　of　appreciation；　he　relaxed　a　trifle；　and　when　the　Almighty　insisted　that　he　should　take　the　throne　seat；　Colonel　Andrews　actually　smiled　for　the　first　time　on　earth　or　in　heaven。'

〃Uncle　Dave　told　this　story　so　often　that　he　actually　believed　it　himself。　But　finally　a　wag　friend　of　Colonel　Andrews　told　of　a　dream　which　he　had　had　about　old　Dave；　which　the　latter　hugely　enjoyed。　According　to　this　second　vagary；　the　old　vagabond　had　also　died　and　gone　to　heaven。　There　was　some　trouble　at　St。　Peter's　gate；　as　they　refused　to　admit　dogs；　and　Uncle　Dave　always　had　a　troop　of　hounds　at　his　heels。　When　he　found　that　it　was　useless　to　argue　the　matter；　he　finally　yielded　the　point　and　left　the　pack　outside。　Once　inside　the　gate　he　stopped；　bewildered　at　the　scene　before　him。　But　after　waiting　inside　some　little　time　unnoticed；　he　turned　and　was　on　the　point　of　asking　the　gate…keeper　to　let　him　out；　when　an　angel　approached　and　asked　him　to　stay。　There　was　some　doubt　in　Dave's　mind　if　he　would　like　the　place；　but　the　messenger　urged　that　he　remain　and　at　least　look　the　city　over。　The　old　hunter　goodnaturedly　consented；　and　as　they　started　up　one　of　the　golden　streets　Uncle　Dave　recognized　an　old　friend　who　had　once　given　him　a　hound　pup。　Excusing　himself　to　the　angel；　he　rushed　over　to　his　former　earthly　friend　and　greeted　him　with　warmth　and　cordiality。　The　two　old　cronies　talked　and　talked　about　the　things　below；　and　finally　Uncle　Dave　asked　if　there　was　any　hunting　up　there。　The　reply　was　disappointing。

〃Meanwhile　the　angel　kept　urging　Uncle　Dave　forward　to　salute　the　throne。　But　he　loitered　along；　meeting　former　hunting　acquaintances；　and　stopping　with　each　for　a　social　chat。　When　they　finally　neared　the　throne；　the　patience　of　the　angel　was　nearly　exhausted；　and　as　old　Dave　looked　up　and　saw　Colonel　Andrews　occupying　the　throne；　he　rebelled　and　refused　to　salute；　when　the　angel　wrathfully　led　him　back　to　the　gate　and　kicked　him　out　among　his　dogs。〃

Jack　Splann　told　a　yarn　about　the　friendship　of　a　pet　lamb　and　dog　which　he　owned　when　a　boy。　It　was　so　unreasonable　that　he　was　interrupted　on　nearly　every　assertion。　Long　before　he　had　finished；　Sponsilier　checked　his　narrative　and　informed　him　that　if　he　insisted　on　doling　out　fiction　he　must　have　some　consideration　for　his　listeners；　and　at　least　tell　it　within　reason。　Splann　stopped　right　there　and　refused　to　conclude　his　story；　though　no　one　but　myself　seemed　to　regret　it。　I　had　a　true　incident　about　a　dog　which　I　expected　to　tell；　but　the　audience　had　become　too　critical；　and　I　kept　quiet。　As　it　was　evident　that　no　more　dog　stories　would　be　told；　the　conversation　was　allowed　to　drift　at　will。　The　recent　shooting　on　the　North　Platte　had　been　witnessed　by　nearly　every　one　present；　and　was　suggestive　of　other　scenes。

〃I　have　always　contended；〃　said　Dorg　Seay；　〃that　the　man　who　can　control　his　temper　always　shoots　the　truest。　You　take　one　of　these　fellows　that　can　smile　and　shoot　at　the　same　timethey　are　the　boys　that　I　want　to　stand　in　with。　But　speaking　of　losing　the　temper；　did　any　of　you　ever　see　a　woman　real　angry；not　merely　cross；　but　the　tigress　in　her　raging　and　thirsting　to　tear　you　limb　from　limb？　I　did　only　once；　but　I　have　never　forgotten　the　occasion。　In　supreme　anger　the　only　superior　to　this　woman　I　ever　witnessed　was　Captain　Cartwright　when　he　shot　the　slayer　of　his　only　son。　He　was　as　cool　as　a　cucumber；　as　his　only　shot　proved；　but　years　afterward　when　he　told　me　of　the　incident；　he　lost　all　control　of　himself；　and　fire　flashed　from　his　eyes　like　from　the　muzzle　of　a　sixshooter。'Dorg；'　said　he；　unconsciously　shaking　me　like　a　terrier　does　a　rat；　his　blazing　eyes　not　a　foot　from　my　face；'dorg；　when　I　shot　that　cowardly　；　I　didn't　miss　the　centre　of　his　forehead　the　width　of　my　thumb　nail。'

〃But　this　woman　defied　a　throng　of　men。　Quite　a　few　of　the　crowd　had　assisted　the　night　before　in　lynching　her　husband；　and　this　meeting　occurred　at　the　burying…ground　the　next　afternoon。　The　woman's　husband　was　a　well…known　horse…thief；　a　dissolute；　dangerous　character；　and　had　been　warned　to　leave　the　community。　He　lived　in　a　little　village；　and　after　darkness　the　evening　before；　had　crept　up　to　a　window　and　shot　a　man　sitting　at　the　supper…table　with　his　family。　The　murderer　had　harbored　a　grudge　against　his　victim；　had　made　threats；　and　before　he　could　escape；　was　caught　red…handed　with　the　freshly　fired　pistol　in　his　hand。　The　evidence　of　guilt　was　beyond　question；　and　a　vigilance　committee　didn't　waste　any　time　in　hanging　him　to　the　nearest　tree。

〃The　burying　took　place　the　next　afternoon。　The　murdered　man　was　a　popular　citizen；　and　the　village　and　country　turned　out　to　pay　their　last　respects。　But　when　the　services　were　over；　a　number　of　us　lingered　behind；　as　it　was　understood　that　the　slayer　as　well　as　his　victim　would　be　interred　in　the　same　grounds。　A　second　grave　had　been　prepared；　and　within　an　hour　a　wagon　containing　a　woman；　three　small　children；　and　several　Mexicans　drove　up　to　the　rear　side　of　the　inelosure。　There　was　no　mistaking　the　party；　the　coffin　was　carried　in　to　the　open　grave；　when　every　one　present　went　over　to　offer　friendly　services。　But　as　we　neared　the　little　group　the　woman　picked　up　a　shovel　and　charged　on　us　like　a　tigress。　I　never　saw　such　an　expression　of　mingled　anger　and　anguish　in　a　human　countenance　as　was　pictured　in　that　woman　s　face。　We　shrank　from　her　as　if　she　had　been　a　lioness；　and　when　at　last　she　found　her　tongue；　every　word　cut　like　a　lash。　Livid　with　rage；　the　spittle　frothing　from　her　mouth；　she　drove　us　away；　saying：　〃Oh；　you　fiends　of　hell；　when　did　I　ask　your　help？　Like　the　curs　you　are；　you　would　lick　up　the　blood　of　your　victim！　Had　you　been　friends　to　me　or　mine；　why　did　you　not　raise　your　voice　in　protest　when　they　were　str