wallop! Now you shut up whilst I go on with your sad history. Son, you
was afflicted some with five-card insomnia--and right off, when you first
came, you had it fair shoved on you by people usually most disobligin'.
It wasn't just for your money; there was plenty could stack 'em higher
than you could, and them fairly achin' to be fleeced, at that. If your
head hadn't been attached to your shoulders good and strong, if you
hadn't figured to be about square, or maybe rectangular, you had a
chance to be a poker fiend or a booze hoist."

"You're spoofing me, old dear. Wake up; it's morning."

"Don't fool yourself, son. There was a steady organized effort to get you
in bad. And it took money to get all these people after your goat. Some
one round here was managin' the game, for pay. But't wasn't no Arizona
head that did the plannin'. Any Rocky Mountain roughneck mean enough for
that would 'a' just killed you once and been done with it. No, sir; this
party was plumb civilized--this guy that wanted your goat. He wanted to
spoil your rep; he probably had conscientious scruples about bloodshed.
Early trainin'," said Mr. Johnson admiringly, "is a wonderful thing! And,
after they found you wouldn't fall for the husks and things, they went
out to put a crimp in your bank roll. Now, who is to gain by putting you
on the blink, huh?"

"No one at all," said Stan. "You're seein' things at night! What happened
on the Cobre Trail to stir up your superstitions?"

"Two gay young lads--punchers of Zurich's--tried to catch me with my gun
unloaded. That's what! And if herdin' with them blasted baa-sheep hadn't
just about ruined your intellect, you'd know why, without asking," said
Pete. "Look now! I was so sure that you was bein' systematically