Friar Tuck Part 3

"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 tickled us a heap to see little Eugene givin' him directions, like as if he was nothin' but a pup dog.

Ol' man Dort settled back with a sigh, an' Eugene leathered up his razor without sayin' anything for a minute or two. Then he sez, as he begins shavin' again: "That squirrel I have in mind for ring contests is the short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrel; and it's the biggest breed 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 the operation.

Eugene stepped back an' looked at the blood flowin' from the fresh cut, an' he sez slow an' sarcastic; "If it don't make any difference to you whether you have any skin on your face or not, why I'll just peel it off an' tack it on a board to shave it; but hanged if I'm goin' to duck around tryin' to shave you on the jump. The' is too grizzly ground-squirrels."

Well, that's the way they had it back and forth: every time they would settle 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 low tone about there bein' rumors of an uncommon big squirrel out at some ranch house a hundred miles or so from there. Eugene would ask what breed of squirrel it was, an' then decide that it couldn't be a patchin' on a genuwine short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrel, an' then ol' man Dort couldn't stand it no longer an' he would forget what he was doin', bob up in his chair, an' lose some more of his life fluid.

Eugene sc.r.a.ped down both sides o' the ol' man's face, givin' all of his razors a chance to take part in the job, an' then he set his lips an' started in on the chin.

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

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

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

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

"I wish you'd take off that ap.r.o.n an' bleed into the spittoon," he said as calm as he could. "I've got customers whose patronage is what makes 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 to his feet an' entirely losin' his patience. "Do you think that I make my livin' by grubbin' down wire gra.s.s which has been let grow for fifty years, an' educatin' ignoramuses in the knowledge of squirrels?

I don't care whether you believe in short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrels or not; but if you don't let me tie your head down to that chair, I won't shave another sprout off your chin. I take some pride in my profession, an' I don't intend to have no man go out o' my shop leavin' a trail o' blood which will draw all the dogs for miles around. Now, you can take your choice."

Ol' man Dort had to give in that this was reasonable enough; so he climbed back into the chair, an' Eugene tied down his head an'

finished him off without any more trouble. As soon as he had stopped the 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 my strength, 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 just as pernicious as Eugene, once you got him riled up.

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

After Eugene had marched off to his boardin' house, we all gathered around 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 no shrubbery to catch the spray, he spluttered terrible when he tried to talk fast. He said, though, that as long as he had started in he intended to take the full course, an' was comin' back, as soon as he'd had a bite to eat, to get his hair laundried an' trimmed up some around the edges; an' then he was goin' to make that bet about the squirrels.

It was some amusin' to see the ol' man get his hair sluiced out, but not near as much fun as seein' him shaved. Whenever Eugene found any stray product, he'd call us all over an' show it to us, an' this riled the ol' man up considerable; but the best joke was when Eugene found a woman's hairpin.

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

"I'll take that bet," sez Eugene, "but you got to give me time to locate 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 care about that. What I want is to vindicate myself. I'd like to see that squirrel o' yours."

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

We all marched around to the general store, an' ol' man Dort pounded on the cage. When Ben Butler sat up an' looked around to see what was up, 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 some squirrel to us; but Eugene merely glanced at him, an' sez: "Hum, what we 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 have no-"

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

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

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," flares back 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 a ladder'll be able to decide between the claims o' two squirrels. Ike Spargle an' Bill Thompson can be the judges."

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

So they put up the money an' Eugene was to have six weeks to get his squirrel; 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' we had all forgot what wild squirrels really was like. We knew the' was ground-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 ended in 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 a squirrel would take the way it did; but Eugene was so confident on his side, an' ol' man Dort was so dead sure of Ben Butler, that the rest of us split up an' we each had a little side bet on the outcome. It seemed a tarnation long time while we was waitin'; but in a little over a month, Eugene got a big box which he took into his back room without lettin' even the fellers who had backed his squirrel get a peep at it.

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

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

Eugene had been fussin' over his entry too, an' we used to sneak up behind his shop at nights to listen to him. We could hear him snippin'

with scissors and pullin' stoppers out o' bottles and when he was through he'd say: "Stand up there, Columbus"-which was the name of his champion, an' then he would seem to pa.s.s in a bunch o' feed, an'

say-"Good boy, Columbus! that dwarf red squirrel can turn a double handspring in your shadder."

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

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

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

I glanced up, and there was the Singin' Parson, as cool as a frozen fish. Ol' Tom Williams, commonly known as "Tank," had just lost six dollars, and he upset the table and saw just how tight braced the blame game was. Then he unlimbered his gun, and suggested that he would feel calmer if he had the six dollars back, and the Cheyenne gambler looked into Tank's free eye, which was pointin' at the ceilin', and he seconded Tank's motion. After this the rest o' the boys collected what they felt was due 'em, and the Cheyenne crowd had to 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 crowd around was lookin' at it. The crook didn't want to attract any attention; so, instead o' usin' a gun, he struck at the Parson with a club. He miscalculated, and hit the shoulder instead o' the head. The Parson whirled, grabbed the club with his left hand, and the crook's s.h.i.+rt collar with his right. The crook started to pull; but we settled down on him, and were all ready to serve out justice, when the Parson interrupted to say that it was none of our business, and if we'd just form a ring, he'd settle it to everybody's satisfaction. He said he expected to live among us for the rest of his life, and this would be a good time to introduce his methods.

We took off the crook's weapons, and then formed a big ring. The Parson 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, so it is fair for you to use this club; but I warn you in advance that I understand 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 at the 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 a swing in the short ribs. Some say it lifted him ten feet, some say only eight; but any way, when he lit, he gave a grunt like an empty barrel, and the Parson had no trouble in layin' him over his knee and givin' him the most liberal spankin' with that club I ever was spectator to; while the crowd howled itself hoa.r.s.e in the throat.

Now the Parson wasn't angry, he grinned all the way through, and when he had taken as much exercise as he felt was good for him, he set the crook on his feet, and talked fatherly advice to him as sober an'