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“‘Which he shorely outlives that conflict,’ replies Enright. ‘An’ you can gamble he’s in the thick of the stampede, too, every time. I will say for this yere Captain, that while I ain’t with him plumb through, he’s as game a sport as ever fought up hill. He’s the sort which fights an goes for’ard to his man at the same time. Thar’s no white feathers on that kind; they’s game as badgers. An’ bad.’

“‘Which if he don’t get downed none,’ says Texas Thompson, ‘an’ hits Tennessee alive, I offers ten to one he leads this yere Sanders female to the altar.’

“‘Which you’d lose, a whole lot,’ says Enright, at the same time raisin’ his whiskey glass.

“‘That’s what I states when I trails out on this yere romance. Females is frivolous an’ plumb light of fancy. This Captain party comes back to Warwhoop, say, it’s two years an’ a half later, an’ what do you-alls reckon? That Sanders girl’s been married mighty nigh two yzars, an’ has an infant child as big as a b’ar cub, which is beginnin’ to make a bluff at walkin.’

“‘Now, on the squar’, an’ I’m as s’prised about it as you be–I’m more’n s’prised, I’m pained–I don’t allow, lookin’ over results an’ recallin’ the fact of that b’ar-cub infant child, that for all her blushin’, an’ all her tears, an’ kissin’ that Captain party good-by that a-way, that the Sanders girl cares a hoss-h’ar rope for him in a week. An’ it all proves what I remarks, that while females ain’t malev’lent malicious, an’ don’t do these yere things to pierce a gent with grief, their ‘ffections is always honin’ for the trail, an’ is shorely prone to move camp. But, bless ’em! they can’t he’p it none if their hearts be quicksands, an’ I libates to ’em ag’in.’

“Whereat we-alls drinks with Enright; feelin’ a heap sim’lar.

“‘Whatever becomes of this yerc pore Captain party?’ asks Faro Nell.

“‘Well, the fact about that Captain,’ replies Enright, settin’ down his glass, ‘while the same is mere incident, an’ don’t have no direct bearin’ on what I relates; the fact in his case is he’s wedded already. Nacherally after sayin’ “howdy!” to the little Sanders girl, an’ applaudin’ of her progeny–which it looks like he fully endorses that a-way–this yere Captain gent hits the trail for Nashville, where his wife’s been keepin’ camp an’ waitin’ for him all the time.”‘