THE STINGING LIZARD.
"Thar's no sorter doubt to it," said the Old Cattleman after a long pause devoted to meditation, and finally to the refilling of his cob pipe, "thar ain't the slightest room for cavil but them ceremonies over Jack King, deceased, is the most satisfactory pageant Wolfville ever promotes."It was at this point I proved my cunning by saying nothing.I was pleased to hear the old man talk, and rightly theorized that the better method of invoking his reminiscences just at this time was to say never a word.
"However," he continued, "I don't reckon it's many weeks after we follows Jack to the tomb, when we comes a heap near schedoolin'
another funeral, with the general public a-contributin' of the corpse.To be speecific, I refers to a occasion when we-alls comes powerful close to lynchin' Cherokee Hall.
"I don't mind on bosomin' myself about it.It's all a misonderstandin'; the same bein' Cherokee's fault complete.We don't know him more'n to merely drink with at that eepock, an' he's that sly an' furtive in his plays, an' covers his trails so speshul, he nacherally breeds sech suspicions that when the stage begins to be stood up reg'lar once a week, an' all onaccountable, Cherokee comes mighty close to culminatin' in a rope.Which goes to show that you can't be too open an' free in your game, an' Cherokee would tell you so himse'f.
"This yere tangle I'm thinkin' of ain't more'n a month after Cherokee takes to residin' in Wolfville.He comes trailin' in one evenin' from Tucson, an' onfolds a layout an' goes to turnin' faro-bank in the Red Light.No one remarks this partic'lar, which said spectacles is frequent.The general idee is that Cherokee's on the squar' an' his game is straight, an' of course public interest don't delve no further into his affairs.
"Cherokee, himse'f, is one of these yere slim, silent people who ain't talkin' much, an' his eye for color is one of them raw grays, like a new bowie.
"It's perhaps the third day when Cherokee begins to struggle into public notice.Thar's a felon whose name is Boone, but who calls himse'f the 'Stingin' Lizard,' an' who's been pesterin' 'round Wolfville, mebby, it's a month.This yere Stingin' Lizard is thar when Cherokee comes into camp; an' it looks like the Stingin' Lizard takes a notion ag'in Cherokee from the jump.
"Not that this yere Lizard is likely to control public feelin' in the matter; none whatever.He's some onpop'lar himself.He's too toomultuous for one thing, an' he has a habit of molestin' towerists an' folks he don't know at all, which palls on disinterested people who has dooties to perform.About once a week this Lizard man goes an' gets the treemers, an' then the camp has to set up with him till his visions subsides.Fact is, he's what you-alls East calls 'a disturbin' element,' an' we makes ready to hang him once or twice, but somethin' comes up an' puts it off, an' we sorter neglects it.
"But as I says, he takes a notion ag'in Cherokee.It's the third night after Cherokee gets in, an' he's ca'mly behind his box at the Red Light, when in peramb'lates this Lizard.Seems like Cherokee, bein' one of them quiet wolves, fools up the Lizard a lot.This Lizard's been hostile an' blood-hungry all day, an' I reckons he all at once recalls Cherokee; an', deemin' of him easy, he allows he'll go an' chew his mane some for relaxation.
"If I was low an' ornery like this Lizard, I ain't none shore but I'd be fooled them days on Cherokee myse'f.He's been fretful about his whiskey, Cherokee has,--puttin' it up she don't taste right, which not onlikely it don't; but beyond pickin' flaws in his nose-paint thar ain't much to take hold on about him.He's so slim an'
noiseless besides, thar ain't none of us but figgers this yere Stingin' Lizard's due to stampede him if he tries; which makes what follows all the more impressive.
"So the Lizard projects along into the Red Light, whoopin' an'
carryin' on by himse'f.Straightway he goes up ag'inst Cherokee's layout.
"I don't buy no chips," says the Lizard to Cherokee, as he gets in opposite."I puts money in play; an' when I wins I wants money sim'lar.Thar's fifty dollars on the king coppered; an' fifty dollars on the eight open.Turn your kyards, an' turn 'em squar'.If you don't, I'll peel the ha'r an' hide plumb off the top of your head.""Cherokee looks at the Lizard sorter soopercillus an' indifferent;but he don't say nothin'.He goes on with the deal, an', the kyards comin' that a-way, he takes in the Lizard's two bets.
"Durin' the next deal the Lizard ain't sayin' much direct, but keeps cussin' an' wranglin' to himse'f.But he's gettin' his money up all the time; an' with the fifty dollars he lose on the turn, he's shy mebby four hundred an' fifty at the close.
"'Bein' in the hole about five hundred dollars,' says the Lizard, in a manner which is a heap onrespectful, ' an' so that a wayfarin'
gent may not be misled to rooin utter, I now rises to ask what for a limit do you put on this deadfall anyhow?'
"'The bridle's plumb off to you, amigo,' says Cherokee, an' his tones is some hard.I notices it all right enough, 'cause I'm doin'
business at the table myse'f at the time, an' keepin' likewise case on the game.`The bridle's plumb off for you,' says Cherokee, 'so any notion you entertains in favor of bankruptin' of yourse'f quick may riot right along.'
"'You're dead shore of that?' says the Lizard with a sneer.`Now Ireckons a thousand-dollar bet would scare this puerile game you deals a-screechin' up a tree or into a hole, too easy.'
"`I never likes to see no gent strugglin' in the coils of error,'
says Cherokee, with a sneer a size larger than the Lizard's; `Idon't know what wads of wealth them pore old clothes of yours conceals, but jest the same I tells you what I'll do.Climb right onto the layout, body, soul, an' roll, an' put a figger on your worthless se'f, an' I'll turn you for the whole shootin'-match.
