W. C. Tuttle

“ I rolls him away from the machine. I gives Telescope a gentle shove, hangs on to his leg so he won’t hit too hard and deposits him along with Muley. Chuck is wedged in there pretty tight, and when I opines to loosen him a little he orates something about wanting his maw to wake him up, ’cause he’s going to be queen of the May. I never did like to ride alone, so I lets him stay. It pains me to see the flower of young manhood in the gutter of alcohol thataway. I finds the jug, and am glad to see that part of it is still there. ”

“ Me and Mike lays low, and pretty soon Calamity comes sneaking back.
“It was that female person we went up to see,” he states. “She wishes to forgive me, and wants me to tell you that she’ll take up your offer, Henry. She’ll be Miss Columbus.”
“Another victim,” grunts Mike. “You’re a bigger liar than Chuck Warner.”
“He done it for me,” defends Calamity. “Henry wanted to make my homecoming a complete success, and it ain’t all his fault if it don’t exactly work out. When a man has a pe-rade given in his honor he can’t kick if some of the details do get a little balled up.” ”

“ I got more money than a dog has fleas, but I ain’t enjoyed it none. I opines to throw a surprise into Paradise, so I buys this gasoline buckboard, has her shipped to Silver Bend, and here I am. She’s worse than any outlaw bronc that ever flinched under a saddle, Henry, and I’m older by years and years than I was a week ago when a man teached me how to drive it. ”

“ Abe Mudgett and Breezy was here today, and they are wishful to see yuh.”
“Henry,” says Calamity, “you’ve overdone your duty.”
“It would look thataway to a innocent bystander,” I agrees. “Where’s all the broncs, Mike? Did everybody walk in today?”
“That’s where the civilization part comes in. A autymobile invades our fair city today, and she swept us clean of hossflesh. Out on them racks is fifteen pieces of rope flopping in the breeze. Old man Whittaker’s buckskin team was in the lead the last we seen of the race. That’s why nobody is leaving. They’d rather be shot at than walk.” ”

“ Of course it’s going to spoil my entry into Paradise. A person of my financial standing hadn’t ought to enter his old home town except in a fitting equipage. Ain’t I right, Henry?”
“Well,” says I, “since the old man left with his buckskin team and rattle wagon, and some heartless hombre has turned loose every bronc on the place, there ain’t no mode of locomotion in sight except them two burros up there at the cook-shack. Are yuh too proud to straddle a jackass, Calamity?’
“It’ll soon be dark, Henry. Many a man has done things in the dark that he wouldn’t do in the light. ”

“ I posts Chuck about a hundred feet from the jail, and tells him to watch for anybody coming from town.
The Paradise jail ain’t much. It’s one story, mostly dobe, and stands way out from any other shack, a grim reminder that there still is law and order—at times. A strong man might kick the walls loose if they wasn’t afraid the roof would fall on ’em. I takes a rock and busts the padlock. There’s only one cell in the place, and when I lights a match I sees the faces of Scenery Sims and the old man. ”

“ I gets so expert right away that I can drive one-handed, and I discovers a little jigger on the handle that will make her prick up her ears at a touch. I gives her a few touches, and marvels at how fast the mesquite goes past, when all to once I hears a yelp, and we hits something or somebody, and when I stops I’m cross ways of the road. ”

“ Whittaker is a danged old liar!"
"Don't speak disrespectable of the dead," advises Calamity. "No matter how a man acted in this vale of tears yuh hadn't ought to besmirch his memory with recriminations."
"He ain't dead, I tell yuh!" yelps Bill.
"Well," says Mike, "if he ain't he's made of iron. No man can stand a shock like that and ever be the same."
"Shock? Who do yuh mean—Chuck?"
"No," says Mike, sad-like. "I mean Whittaker."
"And Scenery Sims," adds Calamity, removing his hat. "They must a threw a match on to a fuse. ”

“ Muley weighs so much that he has to bandage his bronc's legs with splints to keep it from being bow-legged. The world lost a cracking good poet when Muley essayed to punch cows. He don't look the part, not having soulful eyes nor emaciated ribs, but when it comes to making up poetry he's got 'em all lashed to the snubbing-post.
"Has the committee arrived at a satisfactory conclusion?" he asks, puffing hard on his cigaret, and shaking out a new rope.
"When the facts is made public we'll let yuh know with the rest," squeaks Scenery, who dislikes Muley a heap. ”

“ I said I was born in New York, and it’s my business if I wants to stick to my statement. Now, Telescope, if you said you was born in a teepee on a Digger reservation I wouldn’t argue with you for a minute. I’d take it as Gospel. A feller has a right to a birthplace, and I takes New York. ”

“ I gets on my bronc and points toward the Cross J. I’m sick of being on a committee, and having to hurt people’s feelings.
Paradise ain’t no safe place to cause discord in. There’s a sentiment in that place that leans towards shooting first and asking questions afterwards. There’s only one thing the whole place will agree on, and that is this: yuh can’t have a royal flush if your opponent has four kings. ”

“ She sure makes enough noise."
"You figured the time right, Calamity," says I. "Paradise sure is doing itself proud in your honor."
"In my honor? What's the idea, Henry?"
"Well, yuh see it ain't often that a town can have a former inhabitant come home rich and distinguished like you are. The public sure admires a man with a chunk off the root of all evil, Calamity. We've decorated in your honor, and tomorrow we parades before yuh to show our admiration and respect. ”

“ That argument shows Chuck Warner in his native state. He’s got a face like a bronc, shortest legs on earth, and can wiggle his ears like a burro. The only time he can’t look yuh square in the eye is when he’s telling the truth.
“Yuh ought to get somebody with a little style to lead that pe-rade, Hen,” opines Muley.
“Might get ‘Pole Cat’ Perkins or ‘Harelip’ Hansen,” laughs Telescope. “Have Harelip ride one of his goats, and have Pole Cat walk slow behind him, leading a skunk. Have the goat wear the old man’s striped pants, and put Scenery’s hat on the skunk.” ”

“ The coroner said that either shot would have been fatal. Stuttering must a been guilty, ’cause no man would steal kings to make up two pair.
I hammers my bronc along down to where the Cross J road forks with the one from Silver Bend, when I hears a peculiar noise. Sounds to me like a threshing machine with St. Vitus dance. My bronc shows signs of nervousness, so I gets off. Pretty soon it comes in sight, and I recognizes it as being an autymobile, the same of which ain’t been in this country since the one belonging to Scenery Sims runs over some dynamite at Piperock and evaporates. ”

“ Author of “Clean Crazy,” “Monkeying with Ancestors,” etc.
“And for the support of this A declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.”
Hank Padden shifted his seat on the top pole of the corral, and marks the place with his finger.
“Now,” says he, “shall I orate the names of the men who signed it?”
“Never mind,” replies old man Whittaker. “We don’t know none of them, personally, so we’ll let what you’ve already read be sufficient and plenty. ”

“ Old man Whittaker is setting up there in Henderson's barbershop, with a Winchester, swearing he's going to perforate Harelip Hansen, who is across the street in Dug Chaffin's corral, nursing a peeled nose and a six-shooter. The old man swears that Harelip stole his clothes.
"Pole Cat Perkins is behind my place here, trying to jam some lead into Scenery Sims before Scenery can slip some to him. It seems that their trouble grows out of a clothes controversy, too. Pole Cat avers that he's going to slit Scenery with a rusty sword. ”

“ I’m hopping off down a washout, when I happens to see McFee’s corral. I gets an idea right there.
The gang is quite a ways behind me, trying to make me come out of a old shack, so I takes a chance and races for that corral. The autymobile is pointed the wrong way, and I ain’t got no time to turn it around. I yanks the front wheels around, sets the brake, grabs the crank and prays. Bingo! She took it the first turn. I yanks off the brake, and away I goes, straight for the posse.
I yanks the little jigger down and we sure hits for Paradise in a hurry. ”

“ Calamity is looking over my shoulder, and as Harelip drifts out of sight he yelps:
"Where's my autymobile, Henry? We left her right out there didn't we?"
We goes out and looks around. There's the tracks we made when we came in, and there's the tracks where it went out, and back down the road. Calamity scratches his head, and hitches up his pants.
"Henry," says he, "I'm sorry. What yuh going to lead that pe-rade in now?"
I simply shakes my head, and says to myself:
"That's going to be a well-led pe-rade. She's already got two front ends." ”

“ Wait a minute, fellers, and I'll be with yuh."
He takes the old man and goes off down toward the jail, and when he comes back they all gets in that wagon and rattles off down the road. The old man must a been rattled, 'cause it happens a long ways this side of the pack-trail end. That's where I leaves Muley and Telescope.
Mike and Calamity stands there on the porch as the wagon leaves, and I hears Mike yell at Bill:
"Hey, Bill! Be sure and get back before sunrise on account of them salutes." ”

“ I'll ride at the head of the pe-rade and——"
"That ain't unanimous," interrupts Scenery. "Why you any more than me, Hank? Next thing we know you'll want to be Miss Columbus."
"Hang on to yourselves," advises Whittaker. "You fellers elects yourselves to everything—seems to me. A leading man in a pe-rade ought to dress the part, I reckon. When I lives in Great Falls I'm elected as a ornery member of a organization. ”

“ Bill McFee refuses to arrest anybody except Scenery Sims, and his feelings seem some rasped over this same Columbus thing. Who in —— is Miss Columbus, Henry?"
"I don't know."
"You don't, eh?" laughs Mike. "The —— yuh don't! You sure ought to, Henry. Yuh sent notes to both of the Mudgett sisters, to Hulda Peterson, cook at the Triangle, Annie Schmidt, at the Seven A, and to Mrs. "Breezy" Benson, asking 'em to fill the part. Every one of them has been down here looking for you today. ”

“ One Cross J bronc has a long rope dragging, so I catches him and then ropes the other two. I strings out across the hills toward home, puts 'em in the home corral, and goes to bed. I reckon it's almost morning when the Cross J bunch gets home. Muley, Telescope, Chuck and the old man all comes into the bunk-house, but they don't see me.
"Ho, hum-m-m-m!" yawns the old man. "I'm glad to be home. This has been one strenuous holiday, fellers."
"She sure has," agrees Telescope. "That pe-rade was a humdinger."
I sets up in bed and looks 'em over.
"Pe-rade?" I asks. "Did they have a pe-rade?" ”