“Turn her loose!” said the puncher, winking at the bartender.

Sundown folded his long arms and tilted one lean shoulder as though defying the elements to blast him where he stood:—­

  “Lives there a gent who has not heard,
  Before he died, the saddest word?

  “‘What word is that?’ the maiden cried;
  ‘I’d like to hear it before I died.’

  “‘Then come with me,’ her father said,
  As to the stockyards her he led;

  “Where layin’ on the ground so low
  She seen a tired and weary Bo.

  “But when he seen her standin’ ’round,
  He riz up from the cold, cold ground.

  “‘Is this a hold-up game?’ sez he. 
  And then her pa laughed wickedly.

  “‘This ain’t no hold-up!’ loud he cried,
  As he stood beside the fair maiden’s side.

  “’But this here gal of mine ain’t heard
  What you Boes call the saddest word.’

  “’The Bo, who onct had been a gent,
  Took off his lid and low he bent.

  “He saw the maiden was fed up good,
  So her father’s wink he understood.

  “‘The saddest word,’ the Bo he spoke,
  ‘Is the dinner-bell, when you are broke.’”

And Sundown paused, gazing ceilingward, that the moral might seep through.

“You’re ridin’ right to home!” laughed the cow-boy.  “You just light down and we’ll trail over to Chola Charley’s and prospect a tub of frijoles.  The dinner-bell when you are broke is plumb correct.  Got any more of that po’try broke to ride gentle?”

“Uhuh.  Say, how far is it to the next town?”

“Comin’ or goin’?”

“Goin’.”

“‘Bout seventy-three miles, but there’s nothin’ doin’ there.  Worse’n this.”

“Looks like me for a job, or the next rattler goin’ west.  Any chanct for a cook here?”

“Nope.  All Mexican cooks.  But say, I reckon you might tie up over to the Concho.  Hearn tell that Jack Corliss wants a cook.  Seems his ole stand-by Hi Wingle’s gone to Phoenix on law business.  Jack’s a good boss to tie to.  Worked for him myself.”

“How far to his place?” queried Sundown.

“Sixty miles, straight south.”

“Gee Gosh!  Looks like the towns was scared of each other in this here country.  Who’d you say raises them frijoles?”

The cowboy laughed and slapped Sundown on the back.  “Come on, Bud! 
You eat with me this trip.”

Western humor, accentuated by alcohol, is apt to broaden rapidly in proportion to the quantity of liquor consumed.  After a given quantity has been consumed—­varying with the individual—­Western humor broadens without regard to proportion of any kind.