Now, once, when I'm over across
the Mogallon Plateau, I--'
"But we never does hear what happens to Boggs that time over across
the Mogallon Plateau; for when he's that far along, one of the
niggers from the corral comes scurryin' up an' asks Texas Thompson
does he lend his pinto pony an hour back to the party who's deef an'
dumb.
"'Which I shorely don't,' says Texas. 'You don't aim to tell me none
he's done got away with my pinto hoss?'
"The nigger says he does. He announces that mebby an hour before,
this party comes over to the corral, makes a motion or two with his
hands, cinches the hull onto the pinto, an' lines out for the
northeast on the Silver City trail. He's been plumb outen sight for
more'n half an hour.
"'Which I likes that!' says Texas Thompson. 'For broad, open-air,
noon-day hoss-stealin', I offers even money this dumb gent's
enterprise is entitled to the red ticket.'
"Which we ain't standin' thar talkin' long. If thar's one reform to
which the entire West devotes itse'f, it's breakin' people of this
habit of hoss-stealin'. It ain't no time when four of us is off on
the dumb party's trail, an' half of that is consoomed in takin' a
drink.
"Whyever be gents in the West so sot ag'in hoss-thieves? Son, you
abides in a region at once pop'lous an' fertile.
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