“He done some of the gradin’ on the S. P. too. This time he went out and rounded up ten thousand badgers and put ’em to diggin’. He said they was better laborers than Chinks, because he could learn ’em how to work sooner. Bill had some trouble, however, gittin’ ’em to go in a straight line, and that’s why the S. P. is so crooked in places. “He also got a contract fencin’ the right-of-way. The first thing that he done was to go out on the line of Texas and New Mexico and buy up all the dry holes old Bob Sanford had made out there tryin’ to git water. He pulled ’em up and sawed ’em up into two-foot lengths for post-holes.” “I’ve heard that Paul Bunyan did that with dry oil-wells,” said Lanky. “Paul Bunyan might of for all I know,” said Joe. “But if he did, he learned the trick from Pecos Bill, for this was before oil had been invented. “However, it cost so much to freight the holes down that Bill give up the plan long before he had used up all of Bob Sanford’s wells, and found a cheaper and better way of makin’ post-holes.” “What was his new method?” asked Lanky. “Why, he jest went out and rounded up a big bunch of prairie-dogs, and turned ’em loose where he wanted the fence, and of course every critter of ’em begun diggin’ a hole, for it’s jest a prairie-dog’s nature to dig holes. As soon as a prairie-dog would git down about two feet, Bill would yank him out and stick a post in the hole. Then the fool prairie-dog would go start another one, and Bill would git it. Bill said he found the prairie-dog labor very satisfactory. The only trouble was that sometimes durin’ off hours, the badgers that he had gradin’ would make a raid on the prairie-dogs, and Bill would have to git up and drive ’em back to their own camp.” “Did Bill have any other occupations?” asked Lanky. “Well,” said Joe, “he used to fight Indians jest for recreation, but he never did make a business of it like some did, huntin’ ’em for a dollar a scalp. In fact Bill was not bloodthirsty and cruel, and he never scalped an Indian in his life. He’d jest skin ’em and tan their hides.” “That reminds me,” said Hank, “of another business he used to carry on as a sort of side-line, and that was huntin’ buffalo. You see, it was the hides that was valuable, and Bill thought it was too much of a waste to kill a buffalo jest for the hide; so he’d jest hold the critters and skin ’em alive and then turn ’em aloose to grow a new hide. A profitable business he built up, too, but he jest made one mistake.” “What was that?” asked Lanky. “One spring he skinned too early, and a norther come up, and all the buffalo took cold and died. Mighty few of ’em left after that.” “Did Bill ever get married?” asked Lanky. “Oh, yes,” said Joe. “He married lots of women in his day, but he never had the real tender affection for any of the rest of ’em that he had for his first wife, Slue-Foot Sue.