“’In the room to the r’ar of the apartments where this Easy Aaron holds forth as a practitioner, thar’s a farobank as is nacheral enough.  It’s about second drink time in the afternoon, bein’ a time of day when the faro game is dead.  A passel of conspirators, with Shoestring Griffith in the lead, goes to this room an’ reelaxes into a game of draw.  Easy Aaron can hear the flutter of the chips through the partition—­the same bein’ plenty thin—­where he’s camped like a spider in its web an’ waitin’ for some sport who needs law to show up.  Easy Aaron listens careless an’ indifferent to Shoestring an’ his fellow blacklaigs as they deals an’ antes an’ raises an’ rakes in pots, an’ everybody mighty joobilant as is frequent over poker.

“‘Of a suddent, roars an’ yells an’ reecriminations yoosurps the place of merriment.  Then the guns!  An’ half the lead comes spittin’ an’ splittin’ through that intervenin’ partition like she’s kyardboard.  The bullets flies high enough to miss Easy Aaron, but low enough to invoke a gloomy frame of mind.

“’This yere artillery practice don’t continyoo long before Yellow City descends on Shoestring an’ his band of homicides; an’ when they’ve got ‘em sorted out, thar’s Billy Goodnight too defunct to skin, an’ Shoestring Griffith does it.

“‘Thar’s no time lost; the Stranglers convenes in the Burnt Boot, an’ exact jestice stands on expectant tiptoe for its prey.  But Shoestring raises objections.

“’"Which before ever you-all reptiles takes my innocent life,” says Shoestring, “I wants a lawyer.  I swings off in style or I don’t swing.  You hear me! send across for Easy Aaron.  You can gamble, I’m going to interpose a defense.”

“’"That’s but right,” says Waco Anderson who’s the chief of the Stranglers.  “Assembled as we be to revenge the ontimely pluggin’ of the late Billy Goodnight, still this Shoestring may demand a even deal.  If some gent will ramble over an’ round up Easy Aaron, as Shoestring desires, it will be regyarded by the committee, an’ this lynchin’ can then proceed.”

“’Easy Aaron is onearthed from onder his desk where he’s still quiled up, pale an’ pantin’, by virchoo of the bullets.  Jim Wise, who goes for him, explains that the shower is over; an’ also that he’s in enormous demand to save Shoestring for beefin’ Billy Goodnight.  At this, Easy Aaron gets up an’ coughs ’round for a moment or two, recoverin’ his nerve; then he buttons his surtoot, assoomes airs of sagacity, tucks the Texas Statootes onder his arm, reepairs to the Burnt Boot an’ allows he’s ready to defend Shoestring from said charges.

“’"But not onless my fees is paid in advance,” says this Easy Aaron.

“‘At that, we-all passes the hat an’ each chucks in a white chip or two, an’ when Waco Anderson counts up results it shows wellnigh eighty-five dollars.  Easy Aaron shakes his head like it’s mighty small; but he takes it an’ casts himse’f loose.  An’, gents, he’s shore verbose!  He pelts an’ pounds that committee with a hailstorm of observations, ontil all they can do is set thar an’ wag their y’ears an’ bat their eyes.  Waco Anderson himse’f allows, when discussin’ said oration later, that he ain’t beheld nothin’ so muddy an’ so much since the last big flood on the Brazos.