He's takin' life too lightly; an'
all we p'ints out to do, is sober him an' teach him a thoughtful
deecorum.'
"Texas Thompson goes a-weavin' up the street so as to cross the
trail of this Signal party, who's headed down. As they passes, Texas
turns as f'rocious as forty timber wolves, an' claps his hand on the
shoulder of the Signal party.
"'How's this yere?' says Texas, shakin' back his long ha'r. An' he
shorely looks hardened, that a-way.
"'How's what?' says the Signal man, who's astonished to death.
"'You saveys mighty well,' says Texas. 'You fails to bow to me,
aimin' to insult an' put it all over me in the presence of this yere
multitood. Think of it, gents!' goes on Texas, beginnin' to froth,
an' a-raisin' of his voice to a whoop; 'think of it, an' me the war-
chief of the Panhandle, with forty-two skelps on my bridle, to be
insulted an' disdained by a feeble shorthorn like this. It shore
makes me wonder be I alive!
"'Stranger,' goes on Texas, turnin' to the Signal party, an' his
hand drops on his gun, an' he breathes loud like a buffalo; 'nothin'
but blood is goin' to do me now. If I was troo to myse'f at this
moment, I'd take a knife an' shorely split you like a mackerel.
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