“We goes down to the Gray Mule saloon—that old ’dobe building by the depot.
“‘Give it a name,’ says I, as soon as we got one hoof on the foot-rest.
“‘Sarsaparilla,’ says Perry.
“You could have knocked me down with a lemon peeling.
‘‘‘Insult me as much as you want to,’ I says to Perry, ‘but don’t startle the bartender. He may have heart disease. Come on, now; your tongue got twisted. The tall glasses,’ I orders, ‘and the bottle in the left-hand corner of the ice-chest.’
‘‘‘Sarsaparilla,’ repeats Perry, and then his eyes get animated, and I see he’s got some great scheme in his mind he wants to emit.
“‘Buck,’ he says, all interested, ‘I’ll tell you what! I want to make this a red-letter day. I’ve been keeping close at home, and I want to turn myself a-loose. We’ll have the highest old time you ever saw. We’ll go in the back room here and play checkers till half-past six.’
“I leaned against the bar, and I says to Gotch-eared Mike, who was on watch:
“‘For God’s sake don’t mention this. You know what Perry used to be. He’s had the fever, and the doctor says we must humour him.’
“‘Give us the checker-board and the men, Mike,’ says Perry. ‘Come on, Buck, I’m just wild to have some excitement.’
“‘I went in the back room with Perry. Before we closed the door, I says to Mike:
