“William Haskins, William Haskins, William Haskins!  Come into Court!” cried out the clerk from his corner of the store box.  No immediate response was made.  Some one nudged Curly, who started up.

“Who—­me?” he said.

“Is your name William Haskins?” asked the judge.

“Reckon so,” said Curly.  “My folks used to call me that.  I usually go under the road brand o’ Curly, though.”  He took his seat on a stool near the store box, was sworn, with his hat on, and the prosecuting attorney began the examination.

“What is your name?”

“Why, Curly.”

“What is your occupation?”

“What?”

“How do you make your living?”

“Punchin’ cows.  Not that I ‘low it’s any o’ yore d——­d business.”

“Where do you reside?”

“Where do I live?”

“Yes.”

“Well, now, I don’t know.  My folks lives on the Brazos, an’ I’ve been drivin’ two years.  Now I taken up a claim on the Smoky, out here.  I ’low I’ll go North right soon, to Wyoming maybe.”

“How old are you?”

“Oh, I don’t know; but I ’low about twenty-four or twenty-five, along in there.”

“Where were you last Wednesday?”

“What?”

“Were you one of the posse sent out to search for Cal Greathouse?”

“Yep; me and Cap Franklin, there.”

“Who else?”

“Why, Juan, there, him.  He was trailin’ the hoss for us.”

“Where did you go?”

“About sixty miles southwest, into the breaks of the Smoky.”

“What did you find?”

“We found a old camp.  Hoss had been tied there, and broke its lariat. 
Bushes was broke some, but we didn’t see no blood, as I know of.”

“Never mind what you didn’t see.”

“Well, now—­”

“Answer my question.”

“Now, say, friend, you don’t want to get too gay.”

“Answer the question, Mr. Haskins,” said the Court.

“Well, all right, judge; I’ll do it to oblige you.  The most we saw was where a fire had been.  Looked like a right smart fire.  They was plenty o’ ashes layin’ there.”

“Did you see anything in the ashes?”

“What business is it o’ yourn?”

“Now, now,” said the Court, “you must answer the questions, Mr. Haskins.”

“All right, judge,” said Curly.  “Well, I dunno hardly what we did see any mor’n what I tole all the boys when we first brought Juan in.  I tole you all.”

“Correct the witness, your Honour,” said Franklin.

“Answer only the questions, Mr. Haskins,” said the Judge.

“Very well,” said the prosecutor; “what did you see?  Anything like a man’s figure?”

“We object!” said Franklin, but Curly answered:  “Well, yes, it did look like a feller a-layin’ there.  But when we touched it—­”

“Never mind.  Did the prisoner see this figure?”