“We uncovered _aguardiente_ an’ keno sommers an’ anchored fer the night. We played fast an’ keerless, but somehow we couldn’t get shet o’ any o’ our wealth. So we give it up es a bad job an’ apologized fer shuckin’ the dealers. It was arful unsocial, an’ I was fer layin’ over next day to show ’em we was gentlemen, but Chinook Bill was fer findin’ Poaquita. So we laid in a stock o’ provisions an’ packed ’em on some burros. Then we held a conference back o’ the liquor shop with the _alcalde_ o’ the town. This gent plentytentiary carried a small-sized totem pole in one hand which was called in Mex a official staff, an’ exoodes a treatise on the statutes es he wipes the perspiration from his aesthetic brow. We leans back agin our assortment o’ Chicago tins an’ listens grave. Final he ceases his harrabaloo an’ says: “‘The _señores_ will kindly consider theirselves under arrest.’ “‘Fer what?’ asks Chinook Bill, with a snap o’ his baby blue eyes. “‘Fer disturbin’ the peace,’ says the aesthetic one, wavin’ his totem pole. “‘What’s the penalty?’ says I. “‘Imprisonment er twenty _pesos_,’ says the _alcalde_. “‘Nixey,’ says Chinook Bill, ‘here’s a fiver.’ “‘_Mil gracias_,’ says the aesthetic one, an’ he bows to the earth humble an’ kisses his fingers coquettish. ‘An’ may I inquire fer where the _señores_ mean to depart?’ “‘Sure,’ says Bill, with a wink, ‘Africa.’ “‘_Bueno_,’ says the _alcalde_. ‘Var good. A beautiful country I hear, _señores_. _Adios._ Now git, _pronto_!’ “So we mounts, gives a last partin’ salute, an’ hits them burros up. We druv constant fer ten days, an’ it was sure a God forsooken country we pushed into. First it was mesquite an’ cactus, then cactus and mesquite, an’ a few deflections in the way o’ hills. Then we begun to climb devious into regions o’ supernal ca’m, an’ the beautiful panorama changed its garment ... right in the middle o’ day, gents, an’ there we was with the tropics below us an’ a numerous supply o’ strange fauna in the way o’ monkeys an’ green parrots an’ yaller panthers. Then we started down devious on tother side and hit the deep timber, an’ us cow punchers. Imagine! An’ every day Chinook Bill got more an’ more worrit an’ turrible reticent. “‘You ain’t a-skeered?’ says I, tauntin’.