"'Thank you--thank you _so_ much,' says he, and pops up on his horse. Then again, without any warning, he broke into a haw-haw-haw! as he threw a glance at the family, who sat around eyeing him. 'You were quite right about that _cat_, you know,' says he. 'Capital! Capital! But a _little_ rough on the dog.' And off he goes, bobbity-bob, bobbity-bob. "'Where'd you tag that critter, Red?' says Wind-River. 'My mind's wanderin'.' "'He comes down the draw much the graceful way he's going up it,' says I. 'From where, and why how, I dunno. But I kind of like him against my better instincts, Windy.' "Windy spit thoughtfully at a fly fifteen foot away. 'I shouldn't have time to hate him much myself,' says he. "And there you are. That's how I met Brother Sett, and the Big Bend Ranch stuck her head out of the shell." Oscar's Chance, per Charley "Bhooooooorrr! Bhooooooooooooooorrrrr!" It was the hollow, melancholy, wild beast-howl of a fog-horn. We were drifting upon a tragic coast, where the great waves slipped up the cliffs noiselessly, to disappear upon the other side. At the time, I was talking to a person who had just been a sort of composite of several of my friends, but was now a gaunt bay mule. "Isn't it co-o-ld?" I said to him, and shivered. He looked me sternly in the eye. "Get up!" said he. The vessel struck a rock and trembled violently. "Get up!" repeated the mule, and there was a menace in his voice now. "Bhooooooooooorrrrr!" moaned the fog-horn. This was dreadful. But worse followed. The waters gathered themselves and rose into a peak, the mule sliding swiftly to the apex, still holding me with his uncanny eyes. There came a shock, and Oscar said, "For the Lord's sake, kid! They've been braying away on that breakfast horn for the last five minutes. Hustle!"