“Lucky it didn’t, Muley. If the community thought you intended to bring eighty thousand dollars’ worth of sheep on to this range you’d be the honored guest at a cravat party. Your auntie didn’t understand conditions when she wrote that will, Muley.” “Why emphasize ‘when she wrote that will,’ Henry!” he asks, sad-like. “After looking at Alfred and Amelia—well, Henry, there’s a destiny what shapes our ends.” Next morning at breakfast we’re interrupted. Comes a thump of feet outside the door, and a voice yells— “Hello, the house!” “Hello the ——!” says I. “That sounds like Zeb Abernathy, Muley.” Muley steps over and picks up the old man’s shotgun. “Let him in, Henry,” says he. “If he comes on the prod I’ll scatter his remains to the four winds.” I opens the door, and the old pelican bows to me like I was the fourth king in the deck to enter his hand. “Howdy, Henry,” says he, and then he happens to see Muley with the shotgun. “I comes in sorrow not in anger,” he states, “my soul is filled with contrition.” “As long as she’s filled with something I’ll save my buckshot,” opines Muley. “Come on in and rest your ticks, Zeb Abernathy.” “Nice weather,” observes Zeb, mopping his face with a red handkerchief. “May rain and it may not. I kind of look for a dry spell.” “The Weather Bureau at Washington gets but annual reports, which reach us too late, so we thanks you for the information,” says Muley. “I hope I see you both well,” opines Zeb. “Your eyesight don’t worry me none to speak about,” states Muley. “The last time I meets up with you I made you throw your gun down the well. How’s your sentiments concerning me at present?” “I’m filled with meekness and contrition, as I aforementioned, Le-mule. It aches my heart to know that I provoked you thataway, and I pilgrims over here to make amends. Sabe?” “Why this sudden change of attitude?” inquires Muley, and Zeb sort of squirms in his chair. “She comes to me like a yelp in the night,” says he, pious-like, “I gets to thinking thusly: ‘Le-mule Allender Bowles, I ain’t treated you right. I hops on to you like a coyote on a carcass, and reviles you abusive-like, ’cause you desires to marry into my family. I lets my interest in Susie blind me to her best interests, but now I sheds the scales off my eyes, and comes out into the sunshine of true understanding. “The more I thinks about it, Le-mule, the worse I feels. Youth calls to youth, and what is stronger than the call of true love? She ain’t never yelped at me, boys, but I’m a heap wise. While Le-mule is only getting forty a month now, I feels that in the due course of time he’ll be a shining light of the community, and maybe go to Congress.” “Good sentiments, Zeb,” I agrees, “but it will likely be a close race between the voters and the sheriff to decide whether he goes to Helena or Deer Lodge.” “Haw! Haw! Haw!” roars Zeb. “Muley will never go to the penitentiary.” “Not willingly,” I agrees. “What are your sheep worth today?”