“When Dan busts this yere inebriate, the victim lams loose a yell ag’inst which a coyote would protest.  That sot thinks he’s shore killed.  What with the scare an’ the pain an’ the nosepaint, an’ regyardin’ of himse’f as right then flutterin’ about the rim of eternity, he gets seized with remorse an’ allows he’s out to confess his sins before he quits.  As thar’s no sky pilot to confide in, this drunkard figgers that Peets ‘ll do, an’ with that he onloads on Peets how, bein’ as he is a stage book-keep over in Red Dog, he’s in cahoots with a outfit of route agents an’ gives ’em the word when it’s worth while to stand-up the stage.  An’ among other crim’nal pards of his this terrified person names that outlaw Silver Phil.  Shore, when he rounds to an’ learns it ain’t nothin’ but a toe, this party’s chagrined to death.

“This yere confidin’ sport’s arrested an’ taken some’ers—­Prescott mebby—­to be tried in a shore-enough co’t for the robberies; the Red Dog Stranglers not bein’ game to butt in an’ hang him a lot themse’fs.  They surrenders him to the marshal who rides over for him; an’ they would have turned out Silver Phil, too, only that small black outcast don’t wait, but goes squanderin’ off to onknown climes the moment he hears the news.  He’s vamoosed Red Dog before this penitent bookkeep ceases yelpin’ an’ sobbin’ over his absent toe.

“It ain’t no time, however, before we hears further of Silver Phil; that is, by way of roomer.  It looks like a couple of big cow outfits some’ers in the San Simon country—­they’re the ‘Three-D’ an’ the ‘K-in-a-box’ brands—­takes first to stealin’ each, other’s cattle, an’, final, goes to war.  Each side retains bands of murderers an’ proceeds buoyantly to lay for one another.  Which Silver Phil enlists with the ‘Three-D’ an’ sneaks an’ prowls an’ bushwhacks an’ shoots himse’f into more or less bloody an’ ignoble prom’nence.  At last the main war-chiefs of the Territory declar’s themse’fs in on the riot an’ chases both sides into the hills; an’ among other excellent deeds they makes captive Silver Phil.

“It’s a great error they don’t string this Silver Phil instanter.  But no; after the procrastinatin’ fashion of real law, they permits the villain—­who’s no more use on the surface of Arizona that a-way than one of them hydrophoby polecats whose bite is death—­to get a law sharp to plead an’ call for a show-down before a jedge an’ jury.  It takes days to try Silver Phil, an’ marshals an’ sheriff gents is two weeks squanderin’ about gettin’ witnesses; an’ all to as much trouble an’ loss of time an’ dinero as would suffice to round-up the cattle of Cochise county.  Enright an’ the Stranglers would have turned the trick in twenty minutes an’ never left the New York Store ontil with Silver Phil an’ a lariat they reepairs to the windmill to put the finishin’ touches on their lucoobrations.

“Still, dooms slow an’ shiftless as they shore be, at the wind-up Silver Phil’s found guilty, an’ is put in nom’nation by the presidin’ alcade to be hanged; the time bein’ set in a crazy-hoss fashion for a month away.  As Silver Phil—­which he’s that bad an’ hard he comes mighty clost to bein; game—­is leavin’ the co’t-room with the marshal who’s ridin’ herd on him, he says: