“‘Granger is beginnin’ to upbraid himse’f for not gettin the onhappy stranger’s address, so’s he could ship home the remainder.  In the midst of Granger’s se’f-accoosations, the lights in the gin-mill begins to burn ag’in, one by one.  After awhile, she’s reilloominated an’ ablaze with old-time glory.  It’s then the FAMILY ENTRANCE opens an’ the onhappy stranger sport emerges onto the sidewalk.  He’s in his shirtsleeves, an’ a satisfied smile wreathes his face.  He shore looks plumb content!

“‘"Get out of the kerriage an’ come in, pard,” he shouts to Granger.  “Come on in a whole lot!  I’d journey down thar an’ get you, but I can’t leave; I’m tendin’ bar!"’

“‘You’re shore right, Colonel,’ says Peets, when Colonel Sterett ends the anecdote, ‘the feelin’ of that onhappy stranger sport is parallel to mine.  Ghosts is new to me; an’ I’m goin’ pirootin’ off with Enright on this demon hunt an’ see if I can’t fetch up in the midst of a trifle of nerve-coolin’ excitement.’

“The ghost tales of the stampeded cow-punchers excites Dan Boggs a heap.  After Enright an’ Peets has organised an’ gone p’inting out for the ha’nted Bar-B-8 sign-camp to investigate the spook, Dan can’t talk of nothin’ else.

“‘Them’s mighty dead game gents, Enright an’ Doc Peets is!’ says Dan.  ‘I wouldn’t go searchin’ for no sperits more’n I’d write letters to rattlesnakes!  I draws the line at intimacies with fiends.’

“‘But mebby this yere is a angel,’ says Faro Nell, from her stool alongside of Cherokee Hall.

“‘Not criticisin’ you none, Nell,’ says Dan, ’Cherokee himse’f will tell you sech surmises is reedic’lous.  No angel is goin’ to visit Arizona for obvious reasons.  An’ ag’in, no angel’s doo to go skally-hootin’ about after steers an’ stampeedin’ ’em over brinks.  It’s ag’in reason; you bet!  That blazin’ wraith, that a-way, is a shore-enough demon!  An’ as for me, personal, I wouldn’t cut his trail for a bunch of ponies!

“‘Be you-all scared of ghosts, Dan?’ asks Faro Nell.

“‘Be I scared of ghosts?’ says Dan.  ’Which I wish, I could see a ghost an’ show you!  I don’t want to brag none, Nellie, but I’ll gamble four for one, an’ go as far as you likes, that if you was to up an’ show me a ghost right now, I wouldn’t stop runnin’ for a month.  But what appals me partic’lar,’ goes on Dan, ‘about Peets an’ Enright, is they takes their guns.  Now a ghost waxes onusual indignant if you takes to shootin’ him up with guns.  No, it don’t hurt him; but he regyards sech demonstrations as insults.  It’s like my old pap says that time about the Yankees.  My old pap is a colonel with Gen’ral Price, an’ on this evenin’ is engaged in leadin’ one of the most intrepid retreats of the war.  As he’s prancin’ along at the head of his men where a great commander belongs, he’s shore scandalised by hearin’ his r’ar gyard firin’ on the Yanks.  So he rides back, my old pap does, an’ he says:  “Yere you-all eediots!  Whatever do you mean by shootin’ at them Yankees?  Don’t you know it only makes ’em madder?” An’ that,’ concloods Dan, ‘is how I feels about spectres.  I wouldn’t go lammin’ loose at ’em with no guns; it only makes ’em madder.’