stops him mighty handy with a rifle.Mace could work a Winchester like you'd whirl a rope, an' the way he gets a bullet onder that black-an'-tan's left wing don't worry him a little bit.The bullet tears a hole through his lungs, an' the same bein' no further use for him to breathe with, he comes tumblin' like a shot pigeon, bringin' the party's offspring with him.
"Which this yere is almighty flatterin' to Mace as a shot, an' it plumb tickles the boy's sire.He allows he's lived in Arkansaw, an'
shorely knows good shootin', an' this yere's speshul good.An' then he corrals the Greaser's skelp to take back with him.
"'It'll come handy to humor up the old woman with, when I gets back to camp,' he says; so he tucks the skelp into his war-bags an'
thanks Mace for the interest he takes in his household.
"'That's all right,' says Mace; 'no trouble to curry a little short hoss like that.'
"He shakes hands with the Arkansaw gent, an' we-alls rounds up to Bob Step's an' gets a drink.
"But the cat has quite a tail jest the same.A Mexican that a-way is plenty oncertain.For instance: You're settin' in on a little game of monte all free an' sociable, an' one of 'em comes crowdin' 'round for trouble, an' you downs him.All good enough, says you.No other Mexican seems like he wants to assoome no pressure personal; no one goes browsin' 'round to no sheriff; an' thar you be deluded into theeries that said killin's quit bein' a question.That's where you-all is the victim of error.
"Which in this case the Mexican Mace stretches has uncles or somethin' down off Chaperita.Them relatives is rich.In a week--no one never saveys how--everybody knows that thar's five thousand dollars up for the first party who kills Mace.I speaks to him about it myse'f, allowin' he'd oughter be careful how he goes spraddlin'
about permiscus.Mebby, when he's lookin' north some time, somebody gets him from the south.
"'I ain't worryin' none,' says Mace; 'I ain't got no friends as would down me, nohow; an' my enemies ain't likely none to think it's enough dinero.Killin' me is liable to come mighty high.'
"After which announcements he goes romancin' along in his cheerful, light-hearted way, drinkin' his whiskey an' bein' sheriff, mingled, an' in a week or so we-alls begins to forget about them rewards.One day a little Mexican girl who Mace calls Bonita--she'd shorely give a hoss for a smile from him any time--scouts over an' whispers to Mace as how three Greasers from down around Anton Chico is in camp on a hunt for his ha'r.Them murderers is out for the five thousand;they's over in Chilili right then.
"'Whereabouts in Chilili be them Mexicans?' asks Mace, kinder interested.
"'Over camped in old Santa Anna's dance.hall, a-drinkin' of mescal an' waitin' for dark,' says the girl.
"'All right,' says Mace; 'I'll prance over poco tiempo, an' it's mighty likely them aliens from Anton Chico is goin' to have a fitful time.'
"Mace kisses the little Bonita girl, an' tells her not to chirp nothin' to no Mexican; an' with the caress that a-way her black eyes gets blacker an' brighter, an' the red comes in her cheek, an' bats could see she'd swap the whole Mexican outfit for a word from Mace, an' throw herse'f in for laniyap.
"Mace p'ints out to get another gun; which is proper enough, for he's only one in his belt, an' in a case like this yere he's mighty likely to need two a lot.
"'Some of us oughter go over with Mace, I reckons,' says a party named Benson, sorter general to the crowd.'What do you-alls think yourse'fs?'
"'Go nothin'!' retorts a gent who's called Driscoll, an' who's up to the hocks into a game of poker, an' don't like to see it break up an' him behind.'The hand Mace holds don't need no he'p.If Mace is out after two or three of the boys now, it would be plenty different; but whoever hears of a white man's wantin' he'p that a-way to down three Greasers, an' him to open the game? Mace could bring back all the skelps in Chilili if he's that f'rocious an'
wants to, an' not half try.'
"This seems to be the general idee, an', aside of some bets which is made, no one takes no interest.Bob Short puts it up he'd bet a hundred dollars even Mace gets one of 'em; a hundred to two hundred he gets two, an' a hundred to five hundred he gets 'em all; an' some short-kyard sharp who's up from Socorro, after figgerin' it all silent to himse'f, takes 'em all.
"'Now I don't reckon, stranger,' says Benson, sorter reproachful, to the short-kyard party, 'you knows Mace Bowman mighty well? If you-all did you wouldn't go up ag'in a shore thing like that.'
"We never gets anythin' but Mace's story for it.He tells later how he sa'nters into Santa Anna's an' finds his three Anton Chico felons all settin' alone at a table.They knows him, he says, an' he camps down over opp'site an' calls for a drink.They's watchin' Mace, an'
him doin' sim'lar by them.Final, he says, one of 'em makes a play for his gun, an', seein' thar's nothin' to be made waitin', Mace jumps up with a six-shooter in each hand, an' thar's some noise an'
a heap of smoke, an' them three Mexicans is eliminated in a bunch.
"When he plays his hand out Mace comes back over to us--no other Mexicans allowin' for to call him--an' relates how it is, an'
nacheral we says it's all right, which it shorely is.I asks old Santa Anna for the details of the shake-up later, but he spreads his hands, an' shrugs his shoulders, an' whines "'No quien sabe.'
"An', of course, as I can't tell, an' as Santa Anna don't, I gives'
up askin'."
