"Righto, sir." Another salute, and he was off, his voice coming back less and less distinctly. "So up the rope I'll go, I will go; So up the rope I'll go--I'll go. So up the rope I'll go With the crowd all down below Yelling, 'Sam, I told you so!' Damn their eyes!" CHAPTER XXV HAIR LIKE THE SUNSHINE "Well," grumbled Lawlor, settling back comfortably into his chair, "one of these days I'm goin' to clean out my whole gang and put in a new one. They maybe won't be any better but they can't be any wuss." Nevertheless, he did not seem in the least downhearted, but apparently had some difficulty in restraining his broad grin. The voice of the grim cook returned: "I'll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd; I'll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd; I'll see Nelly in the crowd, And I'll holler to her loud: 'Hey, Nelly, ain't you proud-- Damn your eyes?'" "I ask you," cried Lawlor, with freshly risen wrath, "is that any way to go around talkin' about women?" "Not talking. He's singing," answered Bard. "Let him alone." The thunder of their burly Ganymede's singing rose and echoed about them. "And this shall be my knell, be my knell; And this shall be my knell--my knell. And this shall be my knell: 'Sam, I hope you go to hell, Sam, I hope you sizzle well-- Damn your eyes!'" Shorty Kilrain appeared in the doorway, his mouth wide on the last, long, wailing note. "Shorty," said Lawlor, with a sort of hopeless sadness, "ain't you never been educated to sing no better songs than that?" "Why, you old, grey-headed--" began Shorty, and then stopped short and hitched his trousers violently. Lawlor pushed the bottle of whisky and glass toward Bard. "Help yourself." And to Kilrain, who was leaving the room: "Come back here." "Well?" snarled the sailor, half turning at the door. "While I'm runnin' this here ranch you're goin' to have manners, see?" "If manners was like your whiskers," said the unabashed Shorty, "it'd take me nigh onto thirty years to get 'em." And he winked at Bard for sympathy. Lawlor smashed his fist on the table. "What I say is, are you running this ranch or am I?" "Well?" growled Kilrain. "If you was a kid you'd have your mouth washed out with soap." The eyes of Shorty bulged. "It ought to be done now, but there ain't no one I'd give such dirty work to. What you're going to do is stand right here and show us you know how to sing a decent song in a decent way. That there song of yours didn't leave nothin' sacred untouched, from parsons and jails to women and the gallows. Stand over there and sing." The eyes of the sailor filmed over with cold hate. "Was I hired to punch cattle," he said, "or make a blasted, roarin' fool out of myself?"