Wolfville Nights

by Alfred Henry Lewis

  CHAPTER XIII.

  When Tutt first saw Tucson.

  "An' speakin' of dooels," remarked the Old Cattleman, apropos of ananecdote of the field of honour wherewith I regaled his fancy,"speakin' of dooels, I reckons now the encounter Dave Tutt involveshimse'f with when he first sees Tucson takes onchallenged preecedencefor utter bloodlessness. She's shore the most lamb's-wool form ofsingle combat to which my notice is ever drawn. Dave enlightens usconcernin' its details himse'f, bein' incited tharunto by hearin' TexasThompson relate about the Austin shootin' match of that Deaf Smith.

  "'Which this yere is 'way back yonder on the trail of time,' explainsDave, 'an' I'm hardened a heap since then. I've jest come buttin' intoTucson an' it's easy money I'm the tenderest an' most ontaught partythat ever wears store-moccasins. What I misses knowin' would make ashusky a library,--if it's printed down in books,--as ever lines up onshelves. Also, I'm freighted to the limit with the tenderfoot's usualoutfit of misinformation. It's sad, yet troo! that as I casts my gazer'arward I identifies myse'f as the balmiest brand of shorthorn whoever leaves his parents' shelterin' roof.'

  "'All the same,' says Dan Boggs, plenty conceited, 'I'll gamble a hossI'm a bigger eediot when I quits Missouri to roam the cow country thanever you-all can boast of bein' in your most drivelin' hour.'

  "'Do they lock you up?' asks Dave.

  "'No,' says Dan, 'they don't lock me up none, but----'

  "'Then you lose,' insists Dave, mighty prompt.

  "'But hold on,' says Dan; 'don't get your chips down so quick. As Istarts to explain, I ain't locked up; but it's because I'm in a camplike Wolfville yere that ain't sunk to the level of no calaboose. Butwhat comes to be the same, I'm taken captive an' held as sech ontil theroodiments of Western sense is done beat into me. It takes theyoonited efforts of four of the soonest sharps that ever happens; an'final, they succeeds to a p'int that I'm deemed cap'ble of goin' aboutalone.'

  "'Well,' retorts Dave, 'I won't dispoote with you; an' even at that Iregyards your present attitoode as one of bluff. I thinks you're shorethe cunnin'est wolf in the territory, Dan, an' allers is. But, as I'msayin', when I first begins to infest Tucson, I'm so ignorant it's astain on that meetropolis. At this yere epock, Tucson ain't spraddledto its present proud dimensions. A gent might have thrown the loop ofa lariat about the outfit an' drug it after him with a pony. No one,however, performs this labour, as the camp is as petyoolant as at'rant'ler an' any onauthorised dalliance with its sensibilities wouldhave led to vivid plays. Still, she ain't big, Tucson ain't; an' Ilearns my way about from centre to suburbs in the first ten minutes.

  "'At the beginnin' I'm a heap timid. I suffers from the common easterntheery an' looks on Arizona as a region where it's murder straight an'lynchin' for a place. You-all may jedge from that how erroneous is myidees. Then, as now, the distinguishin' feacher of Tucson existence isa heavenly ca'm. Troo, thar's moments when the air nacherally fills upwith bullets like they're a passel of swallow-birds, an' they hums an'sings their merry madrigals. However, these busy seasons don't set inso often nor last so long but peaceful folks has ample chance tobreathe.

  "'Never does I b'ar witness to as many as seven contemporaneousremainders but once; and then thar's cause. It's in a poker game; an'the barkeep brings the dealer a cold deck onder a tray whereon hepurveys the drinks. Which the discovery of this yere solecism, asyou-all well imagines, arouses interest, earnest an' widespread like Ideescribes. I counts up when the smoke lifts an' finds that seven hassought eternal peace. Commonly two is the number; three bein' quite ashipment. Shore, it's speshul sickly when as many as seven quits outtogether!

  "'Bein' timid an' ignorant I takes good advice. It's in the Oriental.Thar's that old gray cimmaron hibernatin' about the bar whose name isJeffords.

  "'"Be you-all conversant with that gun you packs?" asks Jeffords.

  "'I feels the hot blush mountin' in my tender cheeks, but I concedes Iain't. "Pard," I replies, "speakin' confidenshul an' between gent an'gent, this yere weepon is plumb novel to me."

  "'"Which I allows as much," he says, "from the egreegious way youfidges with it. Now let me pass you-all a p'inter from the peaks ofexperience. You caper back to the tavern an' take that weepon off. Orwhat's as well, you pass it across to the barkeep. If you-all goesromancin' 'round with hardware at your belt it's even money it'll getyou beefed. Allers remember while in Arizona that you'll never getplugged--onless by inadvertence--as long as you wander about inonheeled innocence. No gunless gent gets downed; sech is theonbreakable roole."

  "'After that I goes guiltless of arms; I ain't hungerin' forimmortality abrupt.

  "'Old Jeffords is shore right; in the Southwest if you aims to b'ar acharmed life, never wear a six-shooter. This maxim goes anywhere thisside of the Mississippi; east of that mighty river it's the other way.

  "'Bein' nimble-blooded in them days, I'm a heap arduous about thedance-hall. I gets infatyooated with the good fellowship of thathurdygurdy; an' even after I leaves Tucson an' is camped some milesaway, I saddles up every other evenin', rides in an', as says the poet,"shakes ontirin' laig even into the wee small hours."

  "'Right yere, gents,' an' Dave pauses like he's prounced on by a solemnthought, 'I don't reckon I has to caution none of you-all not to gorepeatin' these mem'ries of gay days done an' gone, where my wifeTucson Jennie cuts their trail. I ain't afraid of Jennie; she's akind, troo he'pmeet; but ever since that onfortunate entanglement withthe English towerist lady her suspicions sets up nervous in theirblankets at the mere mention of frivolities wherein she hears my name.I asks you, tharfore, not to go sayin' things to feed her doubts. WithTucson Jennie, my first business is to live down my past.'

  "'You-all can bet,' says Texas Thompson, while his brow clouds, 'that Ilearns enough while enjoyin' the advantages of livin' with my formerwife to make sech requests sooperfluous in my case. Speshully since ifit ain't for what the neighbours done tells the lady she'd never goropin' 'round for that divorce. No Dave; your secrets is plumb safewith a gent who's suffered.

  "'Which I saveys I'm safe with all of you,' says Dave, his confidence,which the thoughts of Tucson Jennie sort o' stampedes, beginnin' toreturn. 'But now an' then them gusts of apprehensions frequent withmarried gents sweeps over me an' I feels weak. But comin' back to thedance-hall: As I su'gests thar's many a serene hour I whiles awaytharin. Your days an' your _dinero_ shore flows plenty swift in thattemple of merriment; an' chilled though I be with the stiff dignity ofa wedded middle age, if it ain't for my infant son, Enright Peets Tutt,to whom I'm strivin' to set examples, I'd admire to prance out an' liveag'in them halcyon hours; that's whatever!

  "'Thar's quite a sprinklin' of the _elite_ of Tucson in the dance-hallthe evenin' I has in mind. The bar is busy; while up an' down eachside sech refreshin' pastimes as farobank, monte an' roulette holdsprosperous sway. Thar's no quadrille goin' at the moment, an' a ladyto the r'ar is carollin' "Rosalie, the Prairie Flower."

  "Fair as a lily bloomin' in May, Sweeter than roses, bright as the day! Everyone who knows her feels her gentle power, Rosalie the Prairie Flower."

  "'On this yere o'casion I'm so far fortunate as to be five drinks aheadan' tharfore would sooner listen to myse'f talk than to the warblin' ofthe cantatrice. As it is, I'm conversin' with a gent who's standin'hard by.

  "'At my elbow is posted a shaggy an' forbiddin' outlaw whose name isYuba Tom, an' who's more harmonious than me. He wants to listen to"Rosalie the Prairie Flower." Of a sudden, he w'irls about, plentypeevish.

  "'Stick a period to that pow-wow," observes Yuba; "I wants to hear thisprima donna sing."

  "'Bein' gala with the five libations, I turns on Yuba haughty. "Ifyou're sobbin' to hear this songstress," I says, "go for'ard an' campdown at her feet. But don't come pawin' your way into no conversationswith me. An' don't hang up no bluff."

  "'Which if you disturbs me further," retorts Yuba, "I'll turn loose forshore an' crawl your hump a lot."

&
nbsp; "'Them foolhardy sports," I replies, "who has yeretofore attempted thatenterprise sleeps in onknown graves; so don't you-all pester me, forthe outlook's dark."

  "'It's now that Yuba,--who's a mighty cautious sport, forethoughtfulan' prone to look ahead,--regyards the talk as down to cases an' makesa flash for his gun. It's concealed by his surtoot an' I ain't noticedit none before. If I had, most likely I'd pitched the conversation ina lower key. However, by this time, I'm quarrelsome as a badger; an' awillin'ness for trouble subdooes an' sets its feet on my nacheralcowardice an' holds her down.'

  "'Dave, you-all makes me nervous,' says Boggs, with a flash of heat,'settin' thar lyin' about your timidity that a-way. You're about asreluctant for trouble as a grizzly bar, an' you couldn't fool no gentyere on that p'int for so much as one white chip.'

  "'Jest the same,' says Dave, mighty dogmatic, 'I still asserts that ina concealed, inborn fashion, I'm timid absoloote. If you has everbeheld me stand up ag'in the iron it's because I'm 'shamed to quit.I'd wilt out like a jack-rabbit if I ain't held by pride.

  "'"You're plenty ready with that Colt's," I says to Yuba, an' my tonesis severe. "That's because you sees me weeponless. If I has a gunnow, I'd make you yell like a coyote."

  "'"S'pose you ain't heeled," reemonstrates Yuba, "that don't give youno license to stand thar aboosin' me. Be I to blame because yourtoilet ain't complete? You go frame yourse'f up, an' I'll wait;" an'with that, this Yuba takes his hand from his artillery.

  "'Thar's a footile party who keeps the dancehall an' who signs thebooks as Colonel Boone. He's called the "King of the Cowboys"; mostlikely in a sperit of facetiousness since he's more like a deuce than aking. This Boone's packin' a most excellent six-shooter loose in thewaistband of his laiggin's. Boone's passin' by as Yuba lets fly histaunts an' this piece of ordnance is in easy reach. With one motion Isecures it an' the moment followin' the muzzle is pressin' ag'inst awhite pearl button on Yuba's bloo shirt.

  "'"Bein' now equipped," I says, "this war-dance may proceed."

  "'I'm that scared I fairly hankers for the privilege of howlin', but Irealises acootely that havin' come this far towards homicide I mustneeds go through if Yuba crowds my hand. But he don't; he's forbearin'an' stands silent an' still. Likewise, I sees his nose, yeretofore thecolour of a over-ripe violin, begin to turn sear an' gray. I recoverssperit at this as I saveys I'm saved. Still I keeps the artillery onhim. It's the innocence of the gun that holds Yuba spellbound an'affects his nose, an' I feels shore if I relaxes he'll be all over melike a baggage waggon.'

  "'Which I should say so!' says Jack Moore, drawin' a deep breath. 'Youtakes every chance, Dave, when you don't cut loose that time!'

  "'When Boone beholds me,' says Dave, 'annex his gun he almost c'lapsesinto a fit. He makes a backward leap that shows he ain't lived amongrattlesnakes in vain. Then he stretches his hand towards me an' Yuba,an' says, "Don't shoot! Let's take a drink; it's on the house!"

  "'Yuba, with his nose still a peaceful gray, turns from the gun an'sidles for the bar; I follows along, thirsty, but alert. When we-allis assembled, Boone makes a wailin' request for his six-shooter.

  "'"Get his," I says, at the same time, animadvertin' at Yuba with themuzzle.

  "'Yuba passes his weepons over the bar an' I follows suit with Boone's.Then we drinks with our eyes on each other in silent scorn.

  "'"Which we-all will see about this later,' growls Yuba, as he leavesthe bar.

  "'"Go as far as you like, old sport," I retorts, for this last edition,as Colonel Sterett would term it, of Valley Tan makes me that brave I'mmiseratin' for a riot.

  "'It's the next day before ever I'm firm enough, to come ag'in toTucson. This stage-wait in the tragedy is doo to fear excloosive. Ihears how Yuba is plumb bad; how he's got two notches on his stick; howhe's filed the sights off his gun; an' how in all reespects he's amurderer of merit an' renown. Sech news makes me timid two ways: I'mafraid Yuba'll down me some; an' then ag'in I'm afraid he's so popularI'll be lynched if I downs him. Shore, that felon Yuba begins toassoome in my apprehensions the stern teachers of a whipsaw. At lastI'm preyed on to that degree I'm desperate; an' I makes up my mind toinvade Tucson, cross up with Yuba an' let him come a runnin'. Thenervousness of extreme yooth doubtless is what goads me to thisdecision.

  "'It's about second drink time in the afternoon when, havin' donned myweepons, I rides into Tucson. After leavin' my pony at the corral, Iturns into the main street. It's scorchin' hot an' barrin' a deadburro thar's hardly anybody in sight. Up in front of the Oriental, asluck has it, stands Yuba and a party of doobious morals who slays hayfor the gov'ment, an' is addressed as Lon Gilette. As I swings intothe causeway, Gilette gets his eye on me an' straightway fades into theOriental leavin' Yuba alone in the street. This yere strikes me asmighty ominous; I feels the beads of water come onder my hatband, an'begins to crowd my gun a leetle for'ard on the belt. I'm walkin' up onthe opp'site side from Yuba who stands watchin' my approach with aserene mien.

  "'"It's the ca'mness of the tiger crouchin' for a spring," thinks I.

  "'As I arrives opp'site, Yuba stretches out his hand. "Come on over,"he sings out.

  "'"Which he's assoomin' airs of friendship," I roominates, "to get meoff my gyard."

  "'I starts across to Yuba. I'm watchin' like a lynx; an' I'm thatharrowed, if Yuba so much as sneezes or drops his hat or makes ar'arward move of his hand, I'm doo to open on him. But he stands stillas a hill an' nothin' more menacin' than grins. As I comes clost heoffers his hand. It's prior to my shootin' quick an' ackerate with myleft hand, so I don't give Yuba my right, holdin' the same in reservefor emergencies an' in case thar's a change of weather. But Yuba, whocan see it's fear that a-way, is too p'lite to make comments. Heshakes my left hand with well-bred enthoosiasm an' turns an' heads theway into the Oriental.

  "'As we fronts the bar an' demands nosepaint Yuba gives up his arms;an' full of a jocund lightheartedness as I realises that I ain't markedfor instant slaughter I likewise yields up mine. We then has fourdrinks in happy an' successful alternation, an' next we seeks a tablean' subsides into seven-up.

  "'"Then thar ain't goin' to be no dooel between us?" I says to Yuba.It's at a moment when he's turned jack an' I figgers he'll be more softan' leenient. "It's to be a evenin' of friendly peace?"

  "'"An' why not?" says Yuba. "I've shore took all the skelps that'scomin' to me; an' as for you-all, you're young an' my counsel is tonever begin. That pooerile spat we has don't count. I'm drinkin' atthe time, an' I don't reckon now you attaches importance to what a gentsays when he's in licker?"

  "'"Not to what he says," I replies; "but I does to what he shoots. Ilooks with gravity on the gun-plays of any gent, an' the drunker he isthe more ser'ous I regyards the eepisode."

  "'"Well, she's a thing of the past now," explains Yuba, "an' thisevenin' you're as pop'lar with me as a demijohn at a camp-meetin'."

  "'Both our bosoms so wells with joy, settin' thar as we do in aatmosphere of onexpected yet perfect fraternalism an' complete peace,that Yuba an' me drinks a whole lot. It gets so, final, I refooses toreturn to my own camp; I won't be sep'rated from Yuba. When we can nolonger drink, we turns in at Yuba's wickeyup an' sleeps. The nextmornin' we picks up the work of reeconciliation where it slips from ourtired hands the evenin' before. I does intend to reepair to my campwhen we rolls out; but after the third conj'int drink both me an' Yubasees so many reasons why it's a fool play I gives up the idee utter.

  "'Gents, it's no avail to pursoo me an' Yuba throughout them fourfeverish days. We drifts from one drink-shop to the other, arm in arm,as peaceful an' pleased a pair of sots as ever disturbs the betterelement. Which we're the scandal of Tucson; we-all is that thicklyamiable it's a insult to other men. Thus ends my first dooel; aconflict as bloodless as she is victorious. How long it would havetook me an' Yuba to thoroughly cement our friendships will never beknown. At the finish, we-all is torn asunder by the Tucson marshal an'I'm returned to my cam
p onder gyard. Me an' Yuba before nor sincenever does wax that friendly with any other gent; we'd be like brothersyet, only the Stranglers over to Shakespear seizes on pore Yuba onemornin' about a hoss an' heads him for his home on high.'"