Friar Tuck Read online

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE BETTIN' BARBER O' BOGGS

  Yes, this was about the time I got interested in the bettin' barberover at Boggs. He hasn't anything to do with this story I'm about totell ya, except that it was him 'at give the Friar his name; so I'lljust skim through this part as hasty as possible. When a feller istellin' me a story, I want him to stick to the trail of it; but itseems like when I try to tell one, myself, some feller is allus askin'me a question 'at takes me clear out o' range.

  All barbers are more or less different, except in what might be calledthe gift o' gab. This one came out to Boggs station, an' started ashop. His name was Eugene, an' he was a little man with two rollin'curls to his front hair, which he wore short behind. A curious thingabout little men is, that they don't never find it out. A little manproduces more opinions 'n airy other kind, an' being small, theyhaven't no place to store 'em up until they get time to ripen. Alittle man gives out his opinion an' then looks savage--just as ifhe'd get a switch an' make ya believe it, whether you wanted to ornot.

  Eugene had come from every city the' is in the world, an' he used totell scandalous tales about the prominent people who lived in 'emwhose hair he had cut. He was also familiar with the other thingswhich had happened since they've begun to write history, an' if anyone would doubt one of his statements, he'd whirl about holding up hisrazor, an' say: "I'll bet ya a dollar I can prove it."

  All of us fellers used to go in as often as we got a chance to get ourchins shaved an' our hair shampooed--just to hear Eugene get indignantabout things which wasn't none of our business. We used to bet withhim a lot, just for the fun o' makin' him prove up things; which hedid by writin' letters to somebody an' gettin' back the answers hewanted. We didn't have any way to prove our side; so Eugene got themoney an' we had the fun.

  Ol' man Dort ran the general store and kept a pet squirrel in awhirlabout cage, which was the biggest squirrel I ever see, an' hadits tail gnawed off by a rat, or something, before Eugene came. Ol'man Dort had a reputation for arguin', which spread all over our partof the earth. We had made a habit o' goin' to him to get ourdiscussions settled an' when we began to pass him up for Eugene, hefoamed about it free an' frank.

  He wore a prodigious tangle o' hair and a bunch o' grizzled whiskers,about as fine an' smooth as a clump o' grease-wood. He used to bragthat razor nor scissors hadn't touched his hide for twenty years, an'one of us boys would allus add, "Nor soap nor water, neither," an' ol'man Dort would grin proud, 'cause it was a point of honor with him.

  Eugene used to send out for his wearin' an' sech, so ol' man Dortdidn't get a whack at him in his store; ol' man Dort batched, an'Eugene boarded, so they didn't clash up at their meals; an' finallyol' man Dort swore a big oath that he was goin' to be barbered. Thenews got out an' the boys came in for forty miles to see the fun--an'it was worth it.

  We went early to the shop an' planted ourselves, lookin' solemn an'not sayin' anything to put Eugene on his guard. When at last ol' manDort hove in sight with his brows scowled down an' his jaws set underhis shrubbery, we all bit our lips; an' Eugene stopped tellin' usabout the hair-roots o' the Prince of Wales, an' stood lookin' at ol'man Dort with his mouth gapped wide open.

  The ol' man came in, shut the door careful behind him, glared atEugene, as though darin' him to do his worst, an' said: "I want myhair shamped, an' my whiskers shaved off."

  "If you expected to get it all done in one day, you should ought tohave come earlier," sez Eugene soberly, but tossin' us a side wink.

  "Well, you do as much as you can to-day, an' we'll finish upto-morrow," sez ol' man Dort, not seein' the joke.

  Ol' man Dort peeled off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, an' climbedinto the chair as if he thought it was liable to buck him off. Then hesettled back with a grunt, an' Eugene tucked the bib in around hisneck, combed his fingers through ol' man Dort's hair a minute, an'sez; "Your hair's startin' to come out. You should ought to use atonic."

  "Tonic, hell!" snaps the ol' man. "My hair sheds out twice a year,same as the rest o' the animals."

  "Then you should ought to comb it," sez Eugene. "I've got some hairhere in my hand which was shed out two years ago. Leavin' dead hairan' such rubbish as that layin' around on your scalp is what kills thehair globules."

  "It don't either; it acts like fertilizer, the same as dead grassdoes," sez ol' man Dort. He had made up his mind to take the contraryside of everything 'at Eugene said, an' it was more fun than a dogfight.

  Eugene started in by mowin' away the whiskers, an' it was a long an'painful job; 'cause it was almost impossible to tell where they leftoff an' ol' man Dort began, an' then they was so cluttered up withgrit an' dead hair and kindry deb-ris that his scissors would choke upan' pull, an' then ol' man Dort would bob up his head an' yell out abunch o' profanity, and Eugene would stand back an' say that he was abarber, not a clearer of new ground, an' that the job ought to be donewith a scythe and hoe, not with scissors an' razor. Eugene wasn'tcovetous of ol' man Dort's trade an' didn't care whether he insultedhim or not.

  The most fun came, though, after Eugene had got down to where he couldtell the outline of ol' man Dort's face. First he soaked it withlather, combin' it in with a comb, an' puttin' hot towels on it todraw out the alkalie grit an' give his razors some show.

  One of ol' man Dort's manias was, that a man ought to pay his debts,whether it killed him or not; so as soon as Eugene had him steamin'under the towels we begun to talk about a man's first duty bein'toward his kin, an' that if he couldn't pay his debts without bother,he ought to let the debts go an' show his relatives a good time whilethey was still on earth an' able to enjoy themselves.

  Ol' man Dort couldn't stand it, an' tried to answer back from underthe towels; but got his mouth full o' suds, an' choked on the cornerof a towel until Eugene said that if he couldn't sit still an' behavehimself he could go out to some alfalfa farmer to get his tonsoralwork completed.

  It wasn't the ol' man's fault--he simply couldn't help it. Touch himup on a ticklish subject, an' he just had to come back at ya, same asa rattler. Finally, however, Eugene had the stubble wore down an'softened until he decided that he stood a chance again' it, an' thenhe lathered an' rubbed, an' lathered an' rubbed, until nothin' stuckout below ol' man Dort's eyes except the peak of his nose; an' then usboys pulled out our trump card an' played it strong. We began to talkabout red squirrels.

  Now, we didn't know anything professional about squirrels, except whatol' man Dort had told us; but we slewed his talk around this way an'that as if it was our own private opinions; an' the ol' man began togroan audible. He gritted his teeth, though, an' bore up under it likea hero, until Eugene begin to chip in with what he knew aboutsquirrels.

  Eugene was never content to just speak of a thing in a generalway--his main method of convincin' us was to allus fall back on hisown personal experience; so this time he began to tell of squirrelswhat he had been full acquainted with. He called 'em by name an' toldhow they would run to meet him an' climb up on his shoulders an'chatter for nuts, an' so on; until the ol' man's ears turned red withthe strain he was under. And then, we got to discussin' the size o'squirrels.

  We told about squirrels we had heard about, an' contested again' eachother to see which had heard o' the biggest one; but we never evenmentioned ol' man Dort's squirrel. Eugene had shaved his way down tobelow the lobe of ol' man Dort's right ear, slippin' in a side remarkto our talk every minute or so; an' purty soon he sez 'at he knows asquirrel by the name o' Daniel Webster back in Montpelier, Vermont,which was a full half inch longer 'n airy red squirrel we had spokeof. The ol' man couldn't stand this. His head bobbed up, cuttin' agash on the crook of his jaw, and as soon as he could blow the foamout of his mouth, he sez, "I'll stake my life, the' ain't anothersquirrel in this country as big as my own Ben Butler."

  Eugene put his hand on ol' man Dort's forehead an' pushed him backinto the headrest. "You lie there," sez he, "until I get done shavin'ya. Then, I'll bet ya a dollar that I can produce a livin
' squirrelwhich'll out-stand, outweigh, an' out-fight your squirrel--an' I ain'tnever seen your squirrel."

  "A dollar!" snorts the ol' man, flickin' up his head. "I wouldn'tbother wakin' Ben Butler up for a measly dollar. I'll bet ya tendollars."

  "Get back on that headrest," orders Eugene. "Ten dollars looks a heapsight better to me than one, an' I'll be mighty glad to accommodateya."

  Eugene took his fire-stick an' burned the ol' man's cut, an' the ol'man had to scruge up his shoulders with the pain of it; but he did itwithout noticin', 'cause his mind was on squirrels. "What breed o'squirrels is yours?" he asked.

  "If you don't keep your head where I put it, I'll throw up the job an'let you go forth lookin' like the lost Goog o' Mayhan," sez Eugene,raisin' his voice. Ol' man Dort was a whalin' big man, an' it tickledus a heap to see little Eugene givin' him directions, like as if hewas nothin' but a pup dog.

  Ol' man Dort settled back with a sigh, an' Eugene leathered up hisrazor without sayin' anything for a minute or two. Then he sez, as hebegins shavin' again: "That squirrel I have in mind for ring contestsis the short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrel; and it's the biggestbreed of squirrels the' is."

  "The' ain't no such a breed of squirrel as that!" yells ol' man Dort,springing erect in his chair, an' dullin' Eugene's razor by theoperation.

  Eugene stepped back an' looked at the blood flowin' from the freshcut, an' he sez slow an' sarcastic; "If it don't make any differenceto you whether you have any skin on your face or not, why I'll justpeel it off an' tack it on a board to shave it; but hanged if I'mgoin' to duck around tryin' to shave you on the jump. The' is toogrizzly ground-squirrels."

  Well, that's the way they had it back and forth: every time they wouldsettle down to business an' Eugene would get a square inch o' the ol'man's face cleared up, one of us boys would speak something in a lowtone about there bein' rumors of an uncommon big squirrel out at someranch house a hundred miles or so from there. Eugene would ask whatbreed of squirrel it was, an' then decide that it couldn't be apatchin' on a genuwine short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrel, an' thenol' man Dort couldn't stand it no longer an' he would forget what hewas doin', bob up in his chair, an' lose some more of his life fluid.

  Eugene scraped down both sides o' the ol' man's face, givin' all ofhis razors a chance to take part in the job, an' then he set his lipsan' started in on the chin.

  "What does short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrels eat, Eugene?" askedSpider Kelley, as innocent as an infant pigeon.

  "They eat chickens,--" began Eugene, but ol' man Dort flew clean outo' the chair an' stood over Eugene shakin' with rage.

  "Chickens?" he roars. "Chickens! The' never was a squirrel foaled intothis world what et chickens."

  Eugene looked at ol' man Dort, an' then he wiped his razor an' satdown on a chair, so full of disgust that he could hardly breathe.

  "I wish you'd take off that apron an' bleed into the spittoon," hesaid as calm as he could. "I've got customers whose patronage is whatmakes up my living expenses; an' I don't want 'em to come in here an'see the whole place a welter of gore.

  "What do you think this shop is, anyway?" yelled Eugene springing tohis feet an' entirely losin' his patience. "Do you think that I makemy livin' by grubbin' down wire grass which has been let grow forfifty years, an' educatin' ignoramuses in the knowledge of squirrels?I don't care whether you believe in short-tailed grizzlyground-squirrels or not; but if you don't let me tie your head down tothat chair, I won't shave another sprout off your chin. I take somepride in my profession, an' I don't intend to have no man go out o' myshop leavin' a trail o' blood which will draw all the dogs for milesaround. Now, you can take your choice."

  Ol' man Dort had to give in that this was reasonable enough; so heclimbed back into the chair, an' Eugene tied down his head an'finished him off without any more trouble. As soon as he had stoppedthe bleedin' an' put on the perfume an' oil an' powder, he sez: "Now,what I am goin' to do is to get some nourishment to recuperate back mystrength, an' if you want the waste products washed out o' your hair,you come back here at one o'clock prompt."

  "I want to settle on that bet first," said ol' man Dort, who was justas pernicious as Eugene, once you got him riled up.

  "I'll make that bet with you after dinner," sez Eugene, "but first offI got to have food; I'm faint with weakness. Now, I'm goin' to lock upmy shop."

  After Eugene had marched off to his boardin' house, we all gatheredaround ol' man Dort, an' complimented him on his improved appearance,though to be strictly honest, the' was considerable doubts about it.He had two teeth out in front, an' the tobacco habit; and now, with noshrubbery to catch the spray, he spluttered terrible when he tried totalk fast. He said, though, that as long as he had started in heintended to take the full course, an' was comin' back, as soon as he'dhad a bite to eat, to get his hair laundried an' trimmed up somearound the edges; an' then he was goin' to make that bet about thesquirrels.

  It was some amusin' to see the ol' man get his hair sluiced out, butnot near as much fun as seein' him shaved. Whenever Eugene found anystray product, he'd call us all over an' show it to us, an' this riledthe ol' man up considerable; but the best joke was when Eugene found awoman's hairpin.

  The ol' man vowed an' declared an' carried on somethin' fierce; butthere was the hairpin, an' we made him pay for three rounds on thestrength of it. As soon as Eugene was all through, the ol' man settledthe bill, payin' for a full day's work like a regular sport, an' nottryin' to beg off at the ordinary retail price; and then he hardenedhis face an' sez: "Now I bet you ten dollars, that you can't bringforward a squirrel as big as my Ben Butler."

  "I'll take that bet," sez Eugene, "but you got to give me time tolocate a short-tailed grizzly. It's the scarcest breed the' is, an'it'll probably cost me twice the sum to get one, but I don't careabout that. What I want is to vindicate myself. I'd like to see thatsquirrel o' yours."

  "You come right along," sez ol' man Dort, glowin' with pride. "Ireckon when you see him, you'll just hand over the money at once--Thatis, if you know anything at all about squirrels."

  We all marched around to the general store, an' ol' man Dort poundedon the cage. When Ben Butler sat up an' looked around to see what wasup, the ol' man waved his hand at him, looked down at Eugene, an' sez:"Well?" He said it just like that: "Wu-el?"

  Ben Butler was rollin' fat, an' he certainly did look like somesquirrel to us; but Eugene merely glanced at him, an' sez: "Hum, whatwe call a dwarf red squirrel, up in Nova Scotia. They have tails,though, up there."

  The ol' man spluttered till we had to pound him on the back. "Dwarf?"he chokes out. "Dwarf! You produce a squirrel to match him, will ya,or else you pack up your truck an' move on. I don't intend to haveno--"

  "See here, ol' man," sez Eugene, pointin' a finger at him the same asif he'd been a naughty child. "A short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrelis from two to four times as big as this one, so if you want tosidestep the bet, you can do it; but if you want to have some show foryour money, I bet you fifty to ten that I can get a squirrel threetimes as big as this one. I own up that for its kind, this squirrel isof fair, average growth; but--"

  "I'll take that bet!" yelled the old man. "We'll put up our money withIke Spargle this minute; but I don't want your odds. I'll bet you evenmoney."

  Eugene shook his head as if he pitied the ol' man, an' he sez,"Haven't you never travelled none, or seen a zoological garden?"

  "Yes, I've travelled some, an' I've seen all kinds o' gardens," flaresback the ol' man; "but what I want now is to fix up this bet."

  "Who'll be the judges?" sez Eugene.

  "I don't care a snap. Any man who can see through the holes in aladder'll be able to decide between the claims o' two squirrels. IkeSpargle an' Bill Thompson can be the judges."

  "There has to be three," sez Eugene. "We'll have Dan Stedman be theother."

  So they put up the money an' Eugene was to have six weeks to get hissquirrel; an' from that on we begun to divide up into rival camps.The' wasn'
t any tree squirrels out in that neck o' the woods, an' wehad all forgot what wild squirrels really was like. We knew the' wasground-squirrels, red squirrels, gray squirrels, an'flyin'-squirrels--although an argument was started about there bein'flyin'-fish all right, but no flyin'-squirrels, which would have endedin warfare if Eugene hadn't been handy to settle it.

  You wouldn't think that a little thing like a bet about the size of asquirrel would take the way it did; but Eugene was so confident on hisside, an' ol' man Dort was so dead sure of Ben Butler, that the restof us split up an' we each had a little side bet on the outcome. Itseemed a tarnation long time while we was waitin'; but in a littleover a month, Eugene got a big box which he took into his back roomwithout lettin' even the fellers who had backed his squirrel get apeep at it.

  From that on we got shaved twice a day an' our heads washed till thehair started to change color; so that Eugene's trade was so improvedthat even if he lost the bet, he was money ahead; but he scoffed theidy o' losin' the bet, even after his squirrel arrived; and as he wasthe only man who had seen both the contestants, he had the wholecountry up in the air.

  Ol' man Dort had made his squirrel run around the wheel four hours aday, pokin' him up with a stick when he got lazy; an' this gave BenButler sech a prodigious appetite that the ol' man had to set up lateat night to give him an extra meal. As the day o' settlement camecloser, the ol' man tapered off on the exercise, an' doubled up on thefeed, until Ben Butler looked a full size larger, an' us fellers whohad our money on Eugene's squirrel began to get shaky. If it had beenjust an even race, it would have been a fair deal; but to have to showa squirrel three times larger than Ben Butler seemed an impossibility.

  Eugene had been fussin' over his entry too, an' we used to sneak upbehind his shop at nights to listen to him. We could hear him snippin'with scissors and pullin' stoppers out o' bottles and when he wasthrough he'd say: "Stand up there, Columbus"--which was the name ofhis champion, an' then he would seem to pass in a bunch o' feed, an'say--"Good boy, Columbus! that dwarf red squirrel can turn a doublehandspring in your shadder."

  This used to hearten us up again, and we'd lay a little more money onEugene's squirrel. Ike, an' Bill, an' Dan--the judges--said that theydidn't claim to know anything about the breeds o' squirrels, an' allthey was to judge on was the size, which would be settled by weight ifthe' was any dispute. They got kind o' nervous toward the end, 'causethe fellers were all on edge, an' a rank decision meant trouble inbunches.

  When the final day o' settlement arrived, Boggs was seven deep withfellers on edge to see the outcome. Most of us had all we could sparehung up in bets; but the' was still a lot o' coin in the crowd, and acrew came over from Cheyenne to take charge of it.

  They had a game which certainly was attractive, I'll say that much forit. It was a round board full o' numbers, and up the middle was atower with slopin' sides covered with nails. A marble was dropped intoa hole at the top and bobbled on the nails until it went into a row ofholes at the bottom, and came out in a groove leadin' to one o' thenumbers. Some o' these numbers doubled the player's money, some of 'empaid it over to the table; but most of 'em was neutral, and a fellerhad to double what he already had up, in order to stand a show. It wasan innocent-appearin' game, but deceptive. When a feller had up all hecould raise, some stranger would offer him two bits for his chance,put up the doublin' money--and win. This was a capper o' course; butcrowds don't have any sense when they start gamblin', and this crewwas cleanin' us out until, all of a sudden, I heard a clear, low-tonedvoice say: "If one o' you boys would upset that table, you'd see thelever which controls the marble."

  I glanced up, and there was the Singin' Parson, as cool as a frozenfish. Ol' Tom Williams, commonly known as "Tank," had just lost sixdollars, and he upset the table and saw just how tight braced theblame game was. Then he unlimbered his gun, and suggested that hewould feel calmer if he had the six dollars back, and the Cheyennegambler looked into Tank's free eye, which was pointin' at theceilin', and he seconded Tank's motion. After this the rest o' theboys collected what they felt was due 'em, and the Cheyenne crowd hadto fall back on charity for their noon lunch.

  Just about one o'clock, the head crook saw the Singin' Parson standin'close to Eugene's barber shop. The shop was locked, and the crowdaround was lookin' at it. The crook didn't want to attract anyattention; so, instead o' usin' a gun, he struck at the Parson with aclub. He miscalculated, and hit the shoulder instead o' the head. TheParson whirled, grabbed the club with his left hand, and the crook'sshirt collar with his right. The crook started to pull; but we settleddown on him, and were all ready to serve out justice, when the Parsoninterrupted to say that it was none of our business, and if we'd justform a ring, he'd settle it to everybody's satisfaction. He said heexpected to live among us for the rest of his life, and this would bea good time to introduce his methods.

  We took off the crook's weapons, and then formed a big ring. TheParson was smilin' a business-like smile, while the crook was palin'up noticeable. "I am convinced that a man must settle some things,himself, in a new country," sez the Parson. "I am larger than you, soit is fair for you to use this club; but I warn you in advance that Iunderstand how to guard again' clubs, so do your best. I'm ready,begin."

  It was quite eddifyin' to behold: the crook made a vicious smash atthe Parson's head, the Parson bent his arm at the elbow, muscle out,so the bone wouldn't get bruised, stepped in, and hit the crook aswing in the short ribs. Some say it lifted him ten feet, some sayonly eight; but any way, when he lit, he gave a grunt like an emptybarrel, and the Parson had no trouble in layin' him over his knee andgivin' him the most liberal spankin' with that club I ever wasspectator to; while the crowd howled itself hoarse in the throat.

  Now the Parson wasn't angry, he grinned all the way through, and whenhe had taken as much exercise as he felt was good for him, he set thecrook on his feet, and talked fatherly advice to him as sober an'dignified as was possible--considerin' the fact that the crook wasdancin' about like a spider on a hot skillet, and rubbin' the partwhich had got most intimate with the club.

  Eugene had seen it all through his window, and when it was over, hecame out and shook the Parson's hand, and said he was just the kindneeded in such an ungodly community, and that he reminded him for allthe world of Friar Tuck in Robin Hood. Now, we hadn't none of us heardof Friar Tuck up to that time; but it was a name well fitted to thetongue, and from the way Eugene said it, we elected it was acompliment; so we gave it to the Singin' Parson on the spot, and itsoaked into his bones, and he hasn't needed any other since.

  This little incident kept us all in a good humor until three o'clock,which was the fatal hour for the squirrel-contest.

  Then ol' man Dort marched to the center o' the street, carryin' hiscage as though it was full o' diamonds; an' Ben Butler sat up an'chattered as if he was darin' the whole race o' squirrels to bringforth his equal.

  "I don't reckon a squirrel could get three times as big as him withoutexplodin'," sez Spider Kelley, who also had his money on Eugene'ssquirrel.

  "Here comes Eugene with Columbus," sez I, not carin' to waste breathon an opinion I had backed up with good money.

  Eugene came down the street carryin' one end of a box, with Doc Forbescarryin' the other. The box was covered with a clean apron, an' Eugenewasn't lookin' down in the mouth or discouraged.

  "From the size o' that box, we're goin' to have a run for our money,"sez Spider. "If Columbus just looks good enough to make 'em settle bythe scales, I haven't any kick comin'."

  Well, as Eugene drew closer, that crowd fell into a silence until alla body could hear was Ben Butler braggin' about all the nuts he hadet, an' what a prodigious big squirrel he was; but Eugene neverfaltered. He walked up an' set his box down careful, motioned Doc overto the side lines, made a graceful motion to ol' man Dort, an' sez:"As yours is the local champion you introduce him first, an' make yourclaim."

  Ol' man Dort removed his tobacco, wiped his forehead, an' sez: "Fellercitizens, I make t
he claim that Ben Butler is the biggest full-bloodedsquirrel ever sent to enlighten the solitude of lonely humanity. Thisis him."

  The ol' man looked lovin'ly down at his squirrel, an' we every one ofus gave a rousin' cheer. It was all the family the ol' man had, an' itmeant more to him 'n a body who hadn't never tried standin' his owncompany months at a time could realize. Ol' man Dort thrust some newtobacco into his face, bit his lips, winked his eyes rapid, an' bowedto us, almost overcome.

  Then Eugene stepped a space to the front, bowed to the crowd inseveral directions, an' sez: "Gentlemen, an' feller citizens--FromIceland's icy mountains to India's coral strands an' Afric's sunnyfountains, every nation an' every clime has produced some peculiarproduct o' nature which lifts it above an' sets it apart from all theother localities of the globe. When you speak of the succulent banana,the golden orange, or the prickly pineapple, Nova Scotia remainssilent; but when you speak of varmints, she rears up on her hind legsand with a glad shout of triumph, she hands forth the short-tailedgrizzly ground-squirrel, an' sez, 'Give me the blue ribbons, the goldmedals, an' the laurel crowns of victory.' I have the rare pleasurean' the distinctive honor of presenting to your notice Columbus, thehugest squirrel ever exhibited within the confines of captivity."

  We was so took by Eugene's eloquence that we hardly noticed him slipthe apron from in front of his cage; but when we did look, we couldhardly get our breath. I was standin' close to the Friar; and at firsthe looked puzzled, and then his face lit up with a regular boy's grin;but he didn't say a word.

  Columbus was certainly a giant; he stood full two feet tall as he satup an' scrutinized around with a bossy sort of grin. He was dappledfawn color on the sides with a curly black streak down the back an'sort o' chestnut-red below, with a short tail an' teeth like chisels.He won so blame easy that even us what had bet on him didn't cheer.

  Ol' man Dort give a grin, thinkin' Ben Butler must have won, an' thenhe stepped around an' looked into Eugene's cage. He looked first atColumbus, an' then at Ben Butler, then he looked again. "That damnedthing ain't alive," he sez. "It's made up out o' wool yarn. Poke it upan' let me see it move."

  "Poke it yourself," sez Eugene. He was one o' these cold-bloodedgamblers who ain't got one speck o' decent sentimentality; an' he wasmad 'cause we hadn't cheered.

  Ol' man Dort took a stick an' poked Columbus, an' Columbus give athreatenin' grin, chattered savage, an' bit the stick in two. "Givehim the money, Ike," sez ol' man Dort. "I own up I never was in NovaScotia, an' I never supposed that such squirrels as this grew on theface o' the whole earth. What'll you take for him?" he sez to Eugene.

  "It ain't your fault that you didn't know about him," sez Eugene,thawin' a little humanity into himself. "I don't want to rub it in onnobody; and I'll give you this here squirrel free gratis, 'cause Iadmit that you know more about squirrels 'n anybody else what ever Imet; an' you have the biggest red squirrel the' is in the world."

  Then we did give Eugene a cheer, an' everything loosened up, an' weall crowded into Ike Spargle's so that them what won could spend alittle money on them what lost.

  After a time, ol' man Dort got up on a chair, an' sez: "I want youfellers to know that Columbus won't never be my pet. Ben Butler hasbeen the squarest squirrel ever was, an' he continues to remain mypet; but I'll study feedin' this condemned foreign squirrel, an' givehim a fair show; so that if any outsiders come around makin' brags, wewill have a home squirrel to enter again' 'em an' get their money."

  Eugene led the cheerin' this time, which made Eugene solider than everwith the boys, an' when Spider an' me got ready to ride home, he an'ol' man Dort had their arms around each other tryin' to sing the StarSpangled Banner.

  Spider talked about Columbus most o' the way home, but I was still.The' was somethin' peculiar about the Friar's grin when he firstsighted Columbus, and the' was somethin' familiar about that squirrel,an' I was tryin' to adjust myself. Just as we swung to the west on thelast turn, I sez to Spider: "Spider, I don't know what I ought to doabout this?"

  "About what?" sez Spider.

  "About this bet?"

  "Well, it was a fair bet, wasn't it? Columbus is full four times asbig as Ben Butler."

  "Yes," sez I, "but he ain't no squirrel."

  Spider pulled up to a stop. "Ain't no squirrel?" he sez. "What do youtake me for, didn't I see him myself? What is he then?"

  "He's a woodchuck, that's what he is," sez I. "He's a genuwine groundhog with his hair cut stylish and died accordin' to Eugene's idy ofhigh art. I remember now that I used to see 'em when I was a littleshaver back on my dad's farm in Indiana."

  Spider give a whoop, an' then he laughed, an' then he sobered up, an'sez: "Well, you can't do nothin' now, anyway. The judges have decidedit, ol' man Dort has give it up, it ain't your game nohow, an' if youwas to try to equal back those bets after they have been paid an'mostly spent, you'd start a heap o' blood-spillin'; an' furthermore,as far as I'm concerned, I ain't right sure but what a woodchuck, asyou call it, ain't some kind of a squirrel. We'll just let this go an'wait for a chance to put something over on Eugene."

  So that's what we made up to do; but this gives you an idy of how finea line the Friar drew on questions o' sport. He knew 'at we weren'tfull fledged angels, and that we had to have our little diversities;but when any professional hold-up men tried to ring in a brace game onus, he couldn't see any joke in it, and he upset the money-changers'tables, the same as they was upset that time, long ago, in the temple.