"Well, sir, when this scientific chap got down on his knees, and commenced to paw the earth away from the fake mummy, my partner began to gurgle. I knew what was coming and punched him in the ribs, but it did no good. The scientific chap looked up and asked what was the matter. "'Matter?' shouted my pard, and then he roared and yelled and howled. "A look of doubt and annoyance came into our victim's eyes; but pard saved himself just in time. "'Look!' he yelled between his paroxysms of laughter, 'look at that buzzard over there! I'm damned if he ain't the funniest buzzard I ever saw in my life,' and then he roared and yelled and jumped about. 'Look at him,' he laughed; 'see him fly! did you ever see anything so funny?' "I am not sure but what the scientist thought he was crazy, but anyhow, he didn't catch on to what he was laughing at, and pretty soon went on with his digging. We stayed there three days and dug the whole place up and took back with us a basket full of stone axes, arrow-heads, three large prehistoric vases, and the mummy. He drove the wagon himself every step of the way, for fear something would get broken, and when we got to Flagstaff he spent two days packing the relics." "Do you consider that sort of thing quite honorable?" I asked. "Honorable? What is that you say, you squint-eyed dude? Now, my boy, don't get fresh with me just because I am dead and can't jump you." I hastened to pacify him. "Well, that's all right, but if you had said that to me last year when I was alive I would have marked squares all over your body with a piece of chalk and then played hop-scotch on you." "I meant no offence," I said humbly. "Maybe you didn't. But just you make another break like that, and I won't forget it; you will have to die sometime, and then,--oh, mamma!" "Is your partner dead?" I asked. "No, Jim is not dead by a long shot. I went down to see him last winter at his place in California, where he has opened up a new store. He has a good tourist trade--made a lot of money this year out of mermaids and sea-devils--there was a run on sea-devils this winter. He makes them out of fishes. "The mermaids he makes out of fishes' tails and Indian children--robs the graveyards, you know. Some of them are really fine and artistic. I tell you he is an artist in his line. "He has a branch store still somewhere in New Mexico, and made a stack of money last winter in Navajo blankets and scalp-trimmed Indian arms and shields. It is the scalp trimming which catches the tourist. He gets most of his scalps from California, from hospitals there; but when he is short, horse hair does pretty well, especially for old Indian scalps.