"This yere is what I'm trailin' up to: When Captain Moon fetches
Curly Ben that time, Curly is playin' kyards. He's jest dealin',
when, onbeknown to him, Moon comes Injunin' up from the r'ar
surreptitious, an' drills Curly Ben through the head; an' the bullet
bein' a '45 Colt's--for Moon ain't toyin' with Curly an' means
business--goes plumb through an' emerges from onder Curly Ben's off
eye. For that matter, it breaks the arm of a party who's playin'
opp'site to Curly, an' who is skinnin' his pasteboards at the time,
thinkin' nothin' of war. Which the queer part is this: Curly, as I
states--an' he never knows what hits him, an' is as dead as Santa
Anna in a moment--is dealin' the kyards. He's got the deck in his
hands. An' yet, when the public picks Curly off the floor, he's
pulled his two guns, an' has got one cocked. Now what do you--all
deem of that for the workin' of a left-over impulse when a gent is
dead?
"But, as I remarks yeretofore, Curly Ben is the most ornery person I
ever overtakes, an' the feelin's of the camp is in nowise laid waste
when Moon adds him to the list that time in the Red Light bar. It's
this a-way:
"It's about a month before, when Captain Moon an' his nephy, with
two 8-mule teams and four big three-an'-a-half Bain wagons, two lead
an' two trail they be, comes freightin' out of Silver City with
their eyes on Wolfville.
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