AN APPRECIATIVE JUNGLE
into Murphy's hand a note of minute instructions.
"This done, Tib tried to get me to go north and sit on the farther bank of the Rio and await the last curtain. Of course I wasn't for that, and he blessed me and said we would probably wind up as salt-miners. Then he directed me to throw some hardware and cartridges into the cages, and on Saturday morning, with two closed animal-wagons, we started for Quelta. We had one man who could drive chain-lightning, let alone the most erratic Mexican mule, and, best of all, we could trust him. He had lived in Mexico for years, but had never forgotten he came from the land of greatness and graft. He led the way, while Tib and I did the brake act on the second tally-ho. The rest of the show we left at Chihuahua.
"It took us a day to cover the short stretch over their rotten roads, but at last we arrived at Quelta amid a Toltec buzz of excitement, and pitched the side-show tent, as if preparing for the Sunday performance. Tib explained to the head Injun of the town, who met us two miles out of the place to make sure of the tickets, that if the rest of the treat arrived per schedule, Quelta was to enjoy a highly moral entertainment that would be the red-lettered starting-point on all Mexican calendars for all hence. And he cemented his promise with a sheaf of free
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