Enright leads off, an'
the rest trails in an' follows his play, shakin' the old lady's hand
an' givin' her the word what a success her boy is while he lives,
an' what a blow it is when he peters. It comes plumb easy, that
mendacity does, for, as Texas Thompson surmises, she is shorely the
beautifulest old lady I ever sees put a handkerchief to her eyes.
"'Don't weep, marm,' says Enright. 'This yere camp of Wolfville,
knowin' Willyum an' his virchoos well, by feelin' its own onmeasured
loss, puts no bound'ries on its sympathy for you.'
"'Death loves a shinin' mark, marm,' says Doc Peets, as he presses
the old lady's hand an' takes off his hat, 'an' the same bein' troo,
it's no marvel the destroyer experiments 'round ontil he gets your
son Willyum's range. We're like brothers, Willyum an' me, an' from a
close, admirin' friendship which extends over the year an' a half
since he leaves you in the States, I'm shore qualified to state how
Willyum is the brightest, bravest gent in Arizona.'
"An' do you know, son, this yere, which seems a mockery while I
repeats it now, is like the real thing at the time! I'm a coyote! if
it don't affect Texas Thompson so he sheds tears; an' Dan Boggs an'
Tutt an' Moore an' Cherokee Hall is lookin' far from bright about
the eyes themse'fs.
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