“Putyourcarbinedown，“saidMcLeantoLusk。“It’snotrobbers。It’syourwifeI’mbringingyou。“Hespokeveryquietly。
　　Thehusbandaddressednowordtothecow-puncher“Getin，then，“hesaidtohiswife。
　　“Town’snotfarnow，“saidLin。“Maybeyouwouldpreferridingthebalanceoftheway？“
　　“I’d——“ButthenoteofpitythatshefeltinMcLean’squestionovercameher，andherutterancechoked。Shenoddedherhead，andthethreecontinuedslowlyclimbingthehilltogether。
　　Fromthenarrowsofthesteep，sandy，weather-beatenbanksthattheroadslantedupwardthroughforawhile，theycameoutagainupontheimmensityofthetable-land。Here，abruptlylikeanambush，wasthewholeunsuspectedriverclosebelowtotheirright，asifithademergedfromtheearth。Withacirclingsweepfromsomewhereoutinthegloomitcutinclosetotheloftymesabeneathtallclean-gradeddescentsofsand，smoothasarailroadembankment。Astheypausedontheleveltobreathetheirhorses，thewetgulpofitseddiesrosetothemthroughthestillness。UpstreamtheycouldmakeoutthelightoftheDrybonebridge，butnotthebridgeitself；andtwolightsonthefartherbankshowedwherestoodthehog-ranchoppositeDrybone。Theywentonoverthetable-landandreachedthenextheraldofthetown，Drybone’schiefhistorian，thegraveyard。Beneathitsslantingheadboardsandwind-shiftedsandlaymanymorepeoplethanlivedinDrybone。Theypassedbythefenceofthisshelterlessacreonthehill，andshoutingsandhighmusicbegantoreachthem。Atthefootofthehilltheysawthesparselightsandshapesofthetownwhereendedthegraystripofroad。Themanysounds——feet，voices，andmusic——grewclearer，unravellingfromtheirmuffledconfusion，andthefiddlingbecameatunethatcouldbeknown。“
　　“There’sadanceto-night，“saidthewifetothehusband。“Hurry。“
　　Hedroveashehadbeendriving。Perhapshehadnotheardher。
　　“I’mtellingyoutohurry，“sherepeated。“Mynewdressisinthatwagon。
　　There’llbefolkstowelcomemeherethat’solderfriendsthanyou。“
　　Sheputherhorsetoagallopdownthebroadroadtowardthemusicandtheolderfriends。Thehusbandspoketohishorse，clearedhisthroatandspokelouder，clearedhisthroatagainandthistimehissullenvoicecarried，andtheanimalstarted。SoLuskwentaheadofLinMcLean，followinghiswifewiththenewdressatasgoodapaceashemight。Ifhedidnotwanthercompany，perhapstobealonewiththecow-puncherwasstilllesstohismind。
　　“Itain’tonlyherhe’sstoppedcaringfor，“musedLin，asherodeslowlyalong。“Hedon’tcareforhimselfanymore。“
　　PARTIII
　　To-day，Drybonehasaltogetherreturnedtothedust。Eveninthatdayitshourcouldhavebeenheardbeginningtosound，butitsinhabitantswereratherdeaf。Gamblers，saloon-keepers，murderers，outlawsmaleandfemale，allweresobusywiththeircards，theirlovers，andtheirbottlesastomaketheplaceseemyoungandvigorous；butitwassecondchildhoodwhichhadsetin。
　　Drybonehadknownawholesomeadventurousyouth，wheremanlylivesanddeathswereplenty。Ithadbeenanarmypost。Ithadseenhorseandfoot，andheardthetrumpet。Bravewiveshadkepthousefortheircaptainsuponitsbluffs。Winterandsummertheyhadmadethebestofit。WhentheWarDepartmentorderedthecaptainstocatchIndians，thewivesbadethemGodspeed。WhentheInteriorDepartmentorderedthecaptainstolettheIndiansgoagain，stilltheymadethebestofit。YoumustnotwasteIndians。IndianswereasourceofrevenuetosomanypeopleinWashingtonandelsewhere。ButtheprocessofcatchingIndians，armedwithweaponssoldthembyfriendsoftheInteriorDepartment，wasnotentirelyharmless。ThereforetherecametobegravesintheDrybonegraveyard。Thepaleweather-washedhead-boardstoldallaboutit：“SacredtothememoryofPrivateSo-and-So，killedontheDryCheyenne，May6，1875。“Oritwouldbe，“Mrs。So-and-So，foundscalpedonSageCreek。“ButeventhefinanciersatWashingtoncouldnotwhollypreservetheIndianinDrybone’sneighborhood。Asthecattlebytenthousandscametreadingwiththenextstepofcivilizationintothishugedomain，thesoldiersweretakenaway。SomeofthemwentWesttofightmoreIndiansinIdaho，Oregon，orArizona。Thebattlesoftheothersbeingdone，theywentEastinbettercoffinstosleepwheretheirmothersortheircomradeswantedthem。Thoughwindandrainwroughtchangesuponthehill，theready-madegravesandboxeswhichthesesoldiersleftbehindprovedheirloomsasserviceableintheirwayaswerethetenementsthatthelivinghadbequeathedtoDrybone。Intotheseemptybarrackscametodwellanddobusinesseveryjoythatmadethecow-puncher’sholiday，andeveryhuntedpersonwhowasbafflingthesheriff。ForthesheriffmuststopoutsidethelineofDrybone，asshallpresentlybemadeclear。Thecaptain’squarterswereasaloonnow；professionalcardsweregoingintheadjutant’sofficenightandday；andthecommissarybuildingmadeagooddance-hallandhotel。Insteadofguard-mounting，youwouldseeahorse-raceontheparade-ground，andtherewasnoprovost-sergeanttogatherupthebrokenbottlesandoldboots。Heapsofthesechokedtherustyfountain。Inthetuftsofyellow，raggedgrassthatdottedtheplaceplentifullywerelodgedmanyacesandqueensandten-spots，whichtheDrybonewindhadblownwidefromthedoorsoutofwhichtheyhadbeenthrownwhenanewpackwascalledforinside。Amongthegrasstuftswouldlievisitorswhohadappliedforbedstoolateatthedance-hall，franklysleepingtheirwhiskeyoffinthemorningair。
　　Above，onthehill，thegraveyardquietlychronicledthisnewepochofDrybone。So-and-sowasseldomkilledveryfaroutoftown，andofcoursescalpinghaddisappeared。“SacredtothememoryofFour-aceJohnston，accidentlyshot，Sep。4，1885。“Perhapsoneisstillthereunaltered：
　　“SacredtothememoryofMrs。Ryan’sbabe。Agedtwomonths。“Thisuniquecorpsehadsucceededindyingwithitsbootsoff。
　　Butasuccessionofgraveswasnotalwaysneededtoreadthechangingtaleoftheplace，andhowpeoplediedthere；onegravewouldoftenbeenough。Thesoldiers，ofcourse，hadkepttreelessDrybonesuppliedwithwood。Butintheselatterdayswoodwasveryscarce。Nonegrewnearerthantwentyorthirtymiles——none，thatis，tomakeboardsofasufficientwidthforepitaphs。Andtwentymileswasnaturallyfartogotohewaboardforamanofwhomyouknewperhapsnothingbutwhathesaidhisnamewas，andtowhomyouowednothing，perhaps，butatriflingpokerdebt。Henceitcametopassthatheadboardsgrewintoasortofdirectory。Theywerelighttoliftfromoneplacetoanother。Asinglecoatofwhitepaintwouldwipeoutthefirsttenant’snamesufficientlytopaintoveritthenextcomer’s。Bythisthriftyhabittheoriginalboardsbelongingtothesoldierscouldgoround，keepingpacewiththenewcivilianpopulation；andthoughatfirstsightyoumightbepuzzledbythelayersofnamesstillvisiblebeneaththewhitepaint，youcouldbesurethattheclearestandblackestwastheonetowhichthepresenttenanthadanswered。
　　Sothereonthehilllaythegraveyard，steadilywritingDrybone’shistory，andmakingthathistorylaythetownatthebottom——onethinlineofhousesframingthreesidesoftheoldparadeground。Intheseslowlyrottingshellspeoplerioted，believingthegoldenagewashere，theagewheneverybodyshouldhavemoneyandnobodyshouldbearrested。
　　ForDrybonesoil，yousee，wasstillgovernmentsoil，notyethandedovertoWyoming；andonlygovernmentcouldarrestthere，andonlyforgovernmentcrimes。Butgovernmenthadgone，andseldomworriedDrybone!
　　Thespotwasapostage-stampofsanctuarypastedinthemiddleofWyoming’sbigmap，aparadisefortheFour-aceJohnstons。Only，youmustnotstealahorse。Thatwasreallywicked，andbroughtyouinstantlytothenoticeofDrybone’soneofficial——thecoroner!Fortheydidkeepacoroner——JudgeSlaghammer。Hewasperfectlyillegal，andlivednextdoorinAlbanyCounty。ButthatcountypaidfeesandmileagetokeeptallyofDrybone’scasualties。Hiswifeownedthedance-hall，andbetweentheirindustriestheymadeoutaliving。Andallthecitizensmadeoutaliving。Thehappycow-punchersonranchesfarandnearstillearnedandinstantlyspentthehighwagesstillpaidthem。Withtheirbodiesfullofyouthandtheirpocketsfullofgold，theyrodeintotownbytwenties，byfifties，andoutagainnextmorning，pennilessalwaysandhappy。AndthentheFour-aceJohnstonswouldsitcard-playingwitheachothertilltheinnocentsshouldcometotownagain。
　　To-nighttheinnocentshadcertainlycometotown，andDrybonewasfurnishingtothemallitsjoys。Theirmanyhorsesstoodtiedateverypostandcorner——patient，experiencedcow-ponies，wellknowingitwasanall-nightaffair。Thetalkandlaughteroftheriderswasinthesaloons；
　　theyleanedjokingoverthebars，theysatbehindtheircardsatthetables，theystrolledtothepost-trader’stobuypresentsfortheireasysweetheartstheirbootswerekeepingaudibletimewiththefiddleatMrs。
　　Slaghammer’s。Fromthemultitudeandvigorofthesoundsthere，thedancewasbeingdoneregularly。“Regularly“meantthatupontheconclusionofeachsetthegentlemanledhisladytothebarandinvitedhertochooseanditwasalsoregularthattheladyshouldchoose。Beerandwhiskeywerethealternatives。
　　LinMcLean’shorsetookhimacrossthesquarewithoutguidingfromthecow-puncher，whosatabsentlywithhishandsfoldeduponthehornofhissaddle。Thishorse，too，waspatientandexperienced，andcouldnotknowwhatremotethoughtsfilledhismaster’smind。Helookedaroundtoseewhyhismasterdidnotgetofflightly，ashehaddoneduringsomanygallantyears，andhastenintotheconviviality。Butthelonelycow-punchersatmechanicallyidentifyingthehorsesofacquaintances。
　　“ToothpickKidishere，“saidhe，“andLimberJim，andtheDoughie。You’dthinkhe’dstayawayafterthetroublehe——IexpectthatpintoisJerkyBill’s。“
　　“Gohome!“saidaheartyvoice。
　　McLeaneagerlyturned。Forthemomenthisfacelightedfromitssombreness。“I’dforgotyou’dbehere，“saidhe。Andhesprangtotheground。“It’sfinetoseeyou。“
　　“Gohome!“repeatedtheGovernorofWyoming，shakinghisancientfriend’shand。“YouinDryboneto-night，andclaimyou’rereformed？
　　“Yu’seemtobeonhandyourself，“saidthecow-puncher，bracingtobejocular，ifhecould。
　　“Me!I’vegonefishing。Don’tyoureadthepapers？Ifwepoorgovernorscan’tlockuptheStateHouseandtakeawhirlnowandthen——“
　　“Doc，“interruptedLin，“it’splumbfinetoseeyu’!“Againheshookhands。
　　“Why，yes!we’vemetherebefore，youandI。“HisExcellencytheHon。
　　AmoryW。Barker，M。D。，stoodlaughing，familiarandgenial，hissoundwhiteteethshining。ButbehindhisroundspectacleshescrutinizedMcLean。Forinthissecondhand-shakingwasafervorthatseemedagrasp，areachingout，forcomfort。BarkerhadpassedthroughSepar。ThoughanolderacquaintancethanBilly，hehadaskedJessaminefeweranddifferentquestions。Butheknewwhatheknew。“Well，Drybone’sthesameoldDrybone，“saidhe。“Sweet-scentedholeofiniquity!Let’sseehowyouwalknowadays。“
　　Lintookafewsteps。
　　“Pooh!Isaidyou’dnevergetoverit。“AndhisExcellencybeamedwithprofessionalpride。InhisdoctordaysBarkerhadsettheboyMcLean’sleg；andbeforeitwasproperlyknittheboyhadescapedfromthehospitaltorevellooseinDryboneonsuchanothernightasthis。Soonhehadbeencarriedback，withthefracturesplitopenagain。
　　“Itshows，doesit？“saidLin。“Well，itdon’tusually。NotexceptwhenI’m——whenI’m——“
　　“Down？“suggestedhisExcellency。
　　“Yes，Doc。Down，“thecow-puncherconfessed。
　　Barkerlookedintohisfriend’sclearhazeleyes。
　　BeneaththeirdauntlesssparklewassomethingthattouchedtheGovernor’sgoodheart。“I’vegotsomewhiskeyalongonthetrip——Easternwhiskey，“
　　saidhe。“Comeovertomyroomawhile。“
　　“Iusedtosleepallnightonced，“saidMcLean，astheywent。“ThenI
　　cometoknowdifferent。ButI’dneverhavebelievedjustmerethoughtscouldmakeyu’——makeyu’feellikethesteamwasonlyhalfon。Ieat，yu’
　　know!“hestated，suddenly。“AndIexpectoneortwoincamplatelyhavenotfoundmymusclelacking。Feelme，Doc。“
　　Barkerdutifullyobeyed，andpraisedtheexcellentsinews。
　　Acrossfromthedance-hallthewhiningofthefiddlecame，highandgay；
　　feetblurredthetalkofvoices，andvoicesroseabovethetramplingoffeet。Hereandtheresomelurkingformstumbledthroughthedarkamongtherubbish；andclearestsoundofall，thelightcrackofbilliardballsreacheddryandfarintothenightBarkercontemplatedthestarsandcalmsplendiddimnessoftheplain。“’Thougheveryprospectpleases，andonlymanisvile，’“hequoted。“Butdon’ttelltheRepublicanpartyIsaidso。“
　　“It’sawfultrue，though，Doc。I’mvilemyself。Yu’don’tknow。Why，I
　　didn’tknow!“