he felt those ice-tongs he just stiffened out--an Injun's dead game
that-away; he won't make a holler when you hurt him. His squaw was
hangin' around with her eyes poppin' out, but we didn't pay no
attention to her.

Somehow Mike's pinchers kept jumpin' the track and at every slip a new
wrinkle showed in the patient's face--patient is the right word, all
right--and we didn't make no more show at loosenin' that tusk than as
if we'd tried to pull up Mount Bill Williams with a silk thread. At
last two big tears come into the buck's eyes and rolled down his
cheeks. First time I ever seen one cry.

Now that weakness was plumb fatal to him, for right there and then he
cracked his plate with his missus. Yes, sir, he tore his shirt-waist
proper. The squaw straightened up and give him a look--oh, what a
look!

"Waugh!" she sniffed. "Injun heap big squaw!" And with that she
swished out of the office and left him flat. Yes, sir, she just blew
him on the spot.

I s'pose Mike would have got that tooth somehow--he's a perseverin'
party--only that I happened to notice something queer and called him
off.

"Here, wait a minute," said I, and I loosened him from the man's
chest. Mike was so engorsed in the pursuit of his profession that he
was astraddle of his patient's wishbone, gougin' away like a quartz
miner. "Take your elbow out of his mouth and lemme talk to him a
minute." When the savage had got his features together, I said to him,