“The next day I had to come to Apache Teju and I found Pard Huff’s bloody tracks most all the way to Separ.  He ’d run right over stones and cactus and prairie dog holes and everything else in his way.  And them fool people at Separ was all huddled up in the depot, and a company of men with Winchesters and six-shooters was there from Deming, and everybody was watchin’ the country all ’round with spyglasses, for Injuns!  Well, sir, that durn fool tenderfoot, that Pard Huff, had told them a fool yarn about the Apaches surprisin’ our camp and killin’ everybody but him, and they was sure buffaloed!”

“Yes,” I said, “I know they were.”

“You!  How did you know anything about it?”

“Oh, I was there that night.  I passed through on the train, and Separ and Deming were the worst scared towns I ever saw.”

Texas Bill chuckled, pleased at this verification of his story, and went on: 

“Then you know what I ‘m tellin’ you is sure true!  I thought mebbe you-all mightn’t believe it, a-tall, for it sure don’t look reasonable that folks could get so buffaloed over a durn fool tenderfoot’s yarn.  They looked at me with mighty big eyes when I rode into Separ.

“‘Why,’ says they, ’how did you-all get out alive?  We sure thought you was dead!’

“‘Well,’ says I, ’as far as I know, I ’m sure alive; and I don’t know as I ‘ve been into anything to get out of a-tall.’

“‘Why,’ says they, ‘Pard Huff—­’

“‘Oh,’ says I, ’damn Pard Huff!  He ’s a tenderfoot and afraid of his shadder!  He dreamed about Apaches and jumped up with a yell and lit out for God’s sake.  We tried to call him back, and he thought it was the Apaches after him.  I reckon he ’s scared you-all half to death with his yarn.  You ‘re as bad as tenderfeet yourselves!’

“But they ’d got the notion scared into them so bad they could n’t believe anything else, and they sure thought there must be Injuns around somewheres; and so I left ’em and rode on for Apache Teju.  Pretty soon I met a troop of cavalry from Fort Bayard on the trot for Separ.  The captain rode up to me and says, ’Have you been near the scene of the Indian depredations?’

“‘No, sir,’ says I, ’I hain’t seen no Injun depredations, nor Injuns neither, this summer.’

“‘Humph!’ says he, ‘that’s queer!’

“‘Yes, sir,’ says I, ’I think likely.  I heard there was some trouble with ’em last night down below Separ, but if there ’s been any Injun depredations I hain’t seen ’em a-tall.’  And then I rode on, for I had n’t time to be bothered with no more of his questions, and, too, I reckoned likely him and his soldiers needed some exercise.

“And they got it, too.  They just kep’ on the trot for the Mexican line, and kep’ a-goin’ for three months.  They ’d started out for Injuns, and Injuns they was bound to have.  They jest wound around through all that country south of Separ, and over into old Mexico, and back again, and up into the mountains and across the plains, and did n’t even see an Apache the whole three months.  And they did n’t find out it was all nothin’ but a blaze on Pard Huff till after they ’d come back.  I reckon about that time they concluded there ain’t no bigger fool on earth than a tenderfoot, a-tall.  And there ain’t, neither.