"We-all goes over to the O. K. House, followin' the comin' of the
stage, an' leads the old gray mother in to the side of her son, an'
leaves her thar. Enright tells her, as we turns cat-foot to trail
out so she won't be pestered by the presence of us, as how Peets'll
come back in a hour to see her, an' that as all of us'll be jest
across the street, it'll be plenty easy to fetch us if she feels
like company. As we starts for the Red Light to get somethin' to
cheer us up, I sees her where she 's settin' with her arm an' face
on the coffin.
"It's great work, though, them lies we tells; an' I notes how the
mother's pride over what a good an' risin' sport her son has been,
half-way breaks even with her grief.
"Thar is only one thing which happens to disturb an' mar the hour,
an' not a whisper of this ever drifts to Whiskey Billy's mother.
She's busy with her sorrow where we leaves her, an' she never hears
a sound but her own sobs. It's while we're waitin', all quiet an'
pensif, camped about the Red Light. Another outlaw from Red Dog
comes cavortin' in. Of course, he is ignorant of our bein' bereaved
that a-way, but he'd no need to be.
"'Whatever's the matter with you-all wolves yere?' he demands, as he
comes bulgin' along into the Red Light.
Pages:
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344