"Sam, that shore _is_ thoughtful. Use my bronc whenever you want to--she's over in Sparks's corral. Allus speak t' her 'fore you go up to her, though. She's some skittish." "And keep you' money in you' boot-laig," begun the sheriff. "I've heerd that in Noo York they's a hull lot of people that plumb wear theyselves out figgerin' how t' git holt of cash without workin' fer it." "We'll miss y' _turrible,_ Cupid," breaks in Hairoil. "I don't hardly know what Briggs 'll do with you gone. Somehow you allus manage t' keep the _ex_citement up." "But if things don't go good in Noo York," adds Hank Shackleton, "why, just holler." "Thank y', Hank,--thank y'." A little spot was comin' and goin' 'way down the track. The bunch looked that _di_rection silent. Pretty soon, we heerd a rumblin', and the spot got bigger, and steady. The boys got down offen the platform and we moseyed over t' where the end car allus stopped. _Too-oo-oot!_ Shackleton reached out fer my hand. "Good-bye, Cupid, you ole son-of-a-gun," he says almost squeezin' the paw offen me. "Take keer of you'self," says the sheriff. "Don't let them fly Noo York dudes git you scairt none" (this was Chub). "_That_ ain't you' satchel, Cupid, that's the mail-bag." "Wal, we'd rattle _any_body." "Here's Boston, _he_ wants t' say good-bye." "Wave t' the eatin'-house gals,--cain't you see 'em at that upper winda?" "Cupid,"--it was Hairoil, and he put a' arm acrosst my shoulder--"_hope_ you fergive me fer puttin' up that shootin'-scrape." "Why, a-_course,_ I do." Then, whisperin', "_She_ was the gal I tole you about that time, Cupid: The one I _said_ I'd marry you off to." "You don't mean it!" "I do. So--the best _kind_ of luck, ole socks!" "Aw, _thank_ y', Hairoil." Next, pushin' his way through the bunch, I seen Billy Trowbridge, somethin' white in his hand. "Cupid," he says,--into my ear, so's the others couldn't ketch it--"if the time ever comes when the little gal makes a big success back there in Noo York, 'r if the time comes when she's thinkin' some of startin' home t' Oklahomaw again, open this. It's that other letter of Up-State's." "I will, Doc--I will." I clumb the steps of the end car and looked round me. On the one side was the mesquite, all black now, and quiet. Say! I hated t' think it didn't stretch all the way East! Here, on the other side was the deepot, and Dutchy's, and the bunk-house, and the feed-shop, and Silverstein's, and the post-office---- "So long, Cupid!"--it was all-t'gether, gals and fellers, too. Then, "Yee-ee-ee-oop!"--the ole cow-punch yell. "So long, boys!" I waved my Stetson. Next thing, Briggs City begun t' slip back'ards--slow at first, then faster and faster. The hollerin' of the bunch got sorta fadey; the deepot lights got littler and littler. Off t' the right, a new light sprung up--it was the lamp in the sittin'-room at the Bar Y.