"One day after I had returned to New Orleans I related this story to a friend who holds a professorship in Tulane University. "When I had finished he laughed and asked whether I had any knowledge of Kearny's luck afterward. I told him no, that I had seen him no more; but that when he left me, he had expressed confidence that his future would be successful now that his unlucky star had been overthrown. "'No doubt,' said the professor, 'he is happier not to know one fact. If he derives his bad luck from Phoebe, the ninth satellite of Saturn, that malicious lady is still engaged in overlooking his career. The star close to Saturn that he imagined to be her was near that planet simply by the chance of its orbit--probably at different times he has regarded many other stars that happened to be in Saturn's neighbourhood as his evil one. The real Phoebe is visible only through a very good telescope.' "About a year afterward," continued Captain Maloné, "I was walking down a street that crossed the Poydras Market. An immensely stout, pink-faced lacy in black satin crowded me from the narrow sidewalk with a frown. Behind her trailed a little man laden to the gunwales with bundles and bags of goods and vegetables. "It was Kearny--but changed. I stopped and shook one of his hands, which still clung to a bag of garlic and red peppers. "'How is the luck, old _companero_?' I asked him. I had not the heart to tell him the truth about his star. "'Well,' said he, 'I am married, as you may guess.' "'Francis!' called the big lady, in deep tones, 'are you going to stop in the street talking all day?' "'I am coming, Phoebe dear,' said Kearny, hastening after her." Captain Maloné ceased again. "After all, do you believe in luck?" I asked. "Do you?" answered the captain, with his ambiguous smile shaded by the brim of his soft straw hat. VIII A DOUBLE-DYED DECEIVER The trouble began in Laredo. It was the Llano Kid's fault, for he should have confined his habit of manslaughter to Mexicans. But the Kid was past twenty; and to have only Mexicans to one's credit at twenty is to blush unseen on the Rio Grande border. It happened in old Justo Valdos's gambling house. There was a poker game at which sat players who were not all friends, as happens often where men ride in from afar to shoot Folly as she gallops. There was a row over so small a matter as a pair of queens; and when the smoke had cleared away it was found that the Kid had committed an indiscretion, and his adversary had been guilty of a blunder. For, the unfortunate combatant, instead of being a Greaser, was a high-blooded youth from the cow ranches, of about the Kid's own age and possessed of friends and champions. His blunder in missing the Kid's right ear only a sixteenth of an inch when he pulled his gun did not lessen the indiscretion of the better marksman.