"Either you 're the coolest devil I 've met during thirty years of
soldiering," he commented, doubtfully, "or else the craziest. Who are
you, anyhow? I half believe you might be Bob Hampton, of Placer."
The other smiled grimly. "You have the name tolerably correct, old
fellow; likewise that delightful spot so lately honored by my
residence. In brief, you have succeeded in calling the turn perfectly,
so far as your limited information extends. In strict confidence I
propose now to impart to you what has hitherto remained a profound
secret. Upon special request of a number of influential citizens of
Placer, including the city marshal and other officials, expressed in
mass-meeting, I have decided upon deserting that sagebrush metropolis
to its just fate, and plan to add the influence of my presence to the
future development of Glencaid. I learn that the climate there is more
salubrious, more conducive to long living, the citizens of Placer being
peculiarly excitable and careless with their fire-arms."
The sergeant had been listening with open mouth. "The hell you say!"
he finally ejaculated.
"The undented truth, every word of it. No wonder you are shocked. A
fine state of affairs, isn't it, when a plain-spoken, pleasant-mannered
gentleman, such as I surely am,--a university graduate, by all the
gods, the nephew of a United States Senator, and acknowledged to be the
greatest exponent of scientific poker in this territory,--should be
obliged to hastily change his chosen place of abode because of the
threat of an ignorant and depraved mob. Ever have a rope dangled in
front of your eyes, sergeant, and a gun-barrel biting into your cheek
at the same time? Accept my word for it, the experience is trying on
the nerves. Ran a perfectly square game too, and those ducks knew it;
but there 's no true sporting spirit left in this territory any more.
However, spilled milk is never worth sobbing over, and Fate always
contrives to play the final hand in any game, and stocks the cards to
win. Quite probably you are familiar with Bobbie Burns, sergeant, and
will recall easily these words, 'The best-laid schemes o' mice and men
gang aft agley'? Well, instead of proceeding, as originally intended,
to the delightful environs of Glencaid, for a sort of a Summer
vacation, I have, on the impulse of the moment, decided upon crossing
the Styx. Our somewhat impulsive red friends out yonder are kindly
preparing to assist me in making a successful passage, and the citizens
of Glencaid, when they learn the sorrowful news of my translation,
ought to come nobly forward with some suitable memorial to my virtues.
If, by any miracle of chance, you should pull through, Wyman, I would
hold it a friendly act if you suggest the matter. A neat monument, for
instance, might suitably voice their grief; it would cost them far less
than I should in the flesh, and would prove highly gratifying to me, as
well as those mourners left behind in Placer."