Old Monte, Official Drunkard

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Title:     Old Monte, Official Drunkard
Author: Alfred Henry Lewis [More Titles by Lewis]

"Shore; Monte's the offishul drunkard of Arizona." The old cattleman was answering my question. "Or, seein' that mebby Wolfville's joorisdiction won't be held none to reach beyond, let's say the offishul drunkard of Cochise County. That's Monte's civic designation; offishul drunkard, an' meant to fix his social place.

"Does he resent it?

"Which he proudly w'ars that title like it's a kingly crown! It's as good as even money that to ondertake to sep'rate him from it, or deny the same, is the one single thing he bristles up at an' give you a battle over.

"Which this yere last should mean a heap, since Monte's plumb pacific by nacher, an' abhors war to the mean confines of bein' timid. To be shore, he'll steam at the nose, an' paw the sod, an' act like he's out to spread rooin far an' wide--that he's doo to leave everything in front of him on both sides of the road. But in them perfervid man'festations he don't reely intend nothin' either high or heenious, or more'n jest to give his se'f-respect an outing that a-way. Let the opp'sition call him down, an' the crafty old cimmaron'll go to the diskyard instanter.

"Which at that, Monte ain't without his interestin' side. When onder the inflooence of nosepaint, which last is constant, he has three distinct moods. About the fo'th drink, let a stranger show up, an'--all aff'ble an' garyoolous--Monte's right thar to do the honors. When the stranger, gettin' weary, kicks Monte off him, the same bein' shore to happen final since no one formed in the image of his Maker can put up with them verbal imbecil'ties of his beyond a given len'th of time, he'll arch his back an'--apparently--wax that f'rocious a wronged grizzly to him is as meek as milk. An' yet, as I tells you, it's simply a blazer; an' the moment the exasperated stranger begins betrayin' symptoms of goin' to a showdown, Monte lapses into his third mood of haughty silence, an' struts off like it's beneath him to bandy words.

"That's the savin' clause in Monte's constitootion; he may get drunk, but he never gets injoodicious. Thar's a sport from some'ers over 'round Shakespear in the dance hall one evenin', whose patience has been plenty treespassed on by Monte. By way of bringin' matters to a deecisive head, this yere Shakespear party tells Monte he's a liar. Do you reckon Monte hooks up with him? Not a chance! He simply casts on that maligner from Shakespear a look of disparagement, an' with nose held high, as markin' his contempt, moves away with the remark.

"'That's something I refooses to discuss with you.'

"Which thar's no more real p'isin in Monte than in a hired girl.

"We has the chance once to try some experiments on Monte, an' it's the mistake of our lives we don't. Peets, whose regrets is scientific, feels speshully acoote. Thar's a partic'lar bar'l of nosepaint gets trundled into camp, which is nothin' short of bein' the condensed essence of hostility. Black Jack, after years as barkeep, says himse'f he never sees nothin' like it. On the hocks of two drinks, folks gets that ornery Enright has it freighted back to Tucson in alarm, fearin' for the peace of the camp. At the time, none of us thinks of it; but later it's a subject of gen'ral regret that some of it ain't saved to try on Monte. Mebby that speshul brand of licker turns out to be the missin' ingreedient, an' keys him up to deeds of heroism.

"Jest to show you some of the milder workin's of that licker. Boggs files away four inches of it onder his belt, an' next, when he's walkin' by the corral an' meets a Mexican, he reaches out in a casyooal an' abstracted way, collars that Greaser an' hefts him over a six-foot 'dobe fence, same as if he's a bag of bran; an' all apropos of nothin'. Boggs says himse'f he don't know why none. He's thinkin' of something else at the time, he declar's, an' the eepisode don't leave no partic'lar traces on his mem'ry. The trooth is, it's that veehement an' onmuzzled nosepaint, incitin' him to voylence.

"Is the Mexican hurt?

"Which, if I remembers rightly, Peets does mention about a busted collarbone. But it don't create no interest--him bein' a Mexican. You see, thar's a feelin', amountin' fa'rly to a onwritten law, that Mexicans ain't got no rightful call to be seen in public no how; an' when one does go pirootin' round permiscus, in voylation of this yere tenet, nacherally he takes his chances. You-all can gamble, though, that Boggs shore never would have reached for him, only he's actchooated by that whiskey.

"As modest an' retirin' a sperit as Cherokee, to whom any form of boastful bluff is plumb reepellant, subscribes to a mod'rate snifter of that licker; an' in less time than it takes to rope a pony, he's out in front of the Red Light, onbucklin' in a display of pistol shootin'. Thar's a brace of towerists in camp, an' Cherokee let's on he'll show 'em. Which he shore shows 'em! He tosses two tomatter cans on high, an' with a gun in each hand keeps 'em dancin' an' jumpin' about in the atmosphere ontil thar's six bullets through each. It's a heap satisfyin' as a performance, as far as them pop-eyed towerists is concerned, an' both leaves town that evenin' by speshul buckboard.

"Onaffected by that licker, Cherokee wouldn't have no more gone an' made sech a spectacle of himse'f, though urged tharunto by the yoonanimous voice of the outfit. When he so far recovers as to 'ppreeciate what Faro Nell has to say of them exploits--an', while tender, she's plenty explicit--he comes mighty clost to blushin' himse'f to death.

"It's after we notes what it does to Cherokee, an' hears of them exhibitions of broote force by Boggs, that we gets timid about this yere whisky, an' Enright orders the bar'l sent back. An' right he is! S'ppose them Red Dogs was to have come prancin' over for a social call, an' s'ppose in entertainin' 'em we all inadvertent has recourse to that partic'lar licker, whatever do you-all reckon 'd have been the finish? Son, thar'd have been one of them things they calls a catyclism, an' nothin' short.

"It's shore a fightin' form of licker. Tutt reeserves out a tin cup of it, an' sets it down by a prairie dog's hole. Accordin' to Tutt, the dog comes out, laps it once, an' starts back same as if he's been shot with a '45. Thar he squats, battin' his eyes, wrinklin' up his nose, an' cogitatin'. After thinkin' the thing over, the dog approaches, mighty gingerly, an' takes three or four more laps. Then he r'ars back, an' considers for quite a spell. It looks final like he gets his mind made up, an' with that he capers over, an' he'ps himse'f to what for a prairie dog is shore a big drink.

"Two minutes later, ha'r bristlin', whiskers standin' out like wire, eyes full of determination, that dog crosses over to another dog who's livin' neighbor to him, an' says--accordin' to Tutt:

"'Wharever can I locate that coyote who's been domineerin' round yere for mebby it's a month, harassin' folks into their holes? Whar's that coyote at?'

"Peets allers allows Tutt exaggerates, but havin' sampled that licker some myse'f, I'm a long ride from bein' so shore.

"That lack of war instinct in Monte ain't no speecific drawback. Him drivin' stage that a-way, he ain't expected none to fight. The hold-ups onderstands it, the company onderstands it, everybody onderstands it. It's the law of the trail. That's why, when the stage is stopped, the driver's never downed. Which if thar's money aboard, an' the express outfit wants it defended, they slams on some sport to ride shotgun that trip. It's for this shotgun speshulist to give the route agents an argyooment. Which they're licensed to go bombardin' each other ontil the goin' down of the sun. As for the driver, however, the etikette simply calls for him to set his brake, an' all peaceful hold his hands above his head. It's inside his rights, too, accordin' to the rooles, for him to cuss out the hold-ups, an' call 'em all the hard names of which he's cap'ble; an' stage drivers, who loves their art, spends their time between drinks practisin' new cuss words, an' inventin' onheard of epithets, so as to be ready when dooty an' o'casion calls. Havin' downed or driven off the shotgun sport, an' seen the bottom of the express box, the hold-ups tells the stage driver to pull his freight. Wharupon he picks up the reins, kicks free the brake, lets fly a loorid an' final broadside of vitooperation--he havin' carefully reeserved the same, by way of peroration--an' goes his windin' way.

"Wolfville's been on the map for most a year, when Monte first shows up. In the beginnin', an' ontil we-all gets adjusted to him, he's something of a bore. Leastwise, he ain't what you'd go so far as to call a boon companion. When it dawns on us that he's plottin' to make himse'f a permanency, it certainly does look for a spell that, what with his consumption of nosepaint an' what with his turrific genius for snorin', he's goin' to be a trifle more'n we can stand.

"Does Monte snore?

"Not to create ondoo excitement, the bar'foot onclothed trooth is that his snorin' falls nothin' short of bein' sinful. Boggs has plenty of countenance when he brings them snores to the attention of Enright.

"'Thar's shore a limit somewhar, Sam,' Boggs says, 'to this yere drunkard's right to snore. Which he's simply keepin' everybody over to the O. K. House settin' up. Onless something's done to check him, thar'll be a epidemic of St. Vitus dance. You ask Doc Peets; he'll tell you that this yere Monte with his snorin' is a scourge.'

"It's not alone their volume, but their quality, which makes them snores of Monte so ondesir'ble. Some folks snores a heap deprecatory, an' like they're apol'gizin' for it as they goes along. Others snores in a manner ca'mly confident, an' all as though the idee that any gent objects would astonish 'em to death. Still others snores plumb deefiant, an' like they ain't snorin' so much for comfort, that a-way, as to show their contempt for mankind. It's to this yere latter hostile school that drunkard, Monte, belongs.

"After Boggs lodges complaint, Enright takes a corrective peek into the sityooation. Thar's two rooms over the O. K. kitchen, sort o' off by themselves. Upon Enright's hint, Missis Rucker beds down Monte in one, an' Deef Andy, who mends harness for the stage company an' can't hear nothin', in the other.

"'It's for the safety of your excellent car'vansary, Ma'am,' Enright explains. 'Which Dan's mighty easy moved; an' some mornin', onless you adopts them improvements, that somnolent sot you're harborin' 'll go too far with Dan. I takes it you-all don't want the shack all smoked up with Dan's six-shooter? In which event you'll put that reverberant drunkard in the far-corner room, with Andy next.'

"Peets once mentions a long-ago poet party, named Johnson, who, speakin' of a fellow poet after he's dead an' down onder the grass-roots, lets on that he teches nothin' he don't adorn. You can go your ultimate simoleon that ain't Monte's style. The only things he don't upset is bottles; the only flooid he never spills is licker. This yere last would be ag'inst his religion. Wharever he goes, he's otherwise draggin' his rope, an' half the time he's steppin' on it.

"It's him that coaxes that onhappy Polish picture painter our way. This yere is long after he's drivin' stage, an' as Wolfville's offishul drunkard becomes a tol'rated feachure of the camp. This Polish artist person is as much out o' place in Arizona as a faro lay-out at a Sunday school picnic. Monte crosses up with him over at Tucson in the Oriental S'loon, an' while thar's no ties between 'em, more'n what nacherally forms between two gents who sets drinkin' together all night long, before ever they're through with each other that inspired inebriate lands the locoed artist party on our hands. Enright shore does go the limit in rebookin' Monte.

"'Why, Sam,' says Monte, an' he's that depreecatory he whines, 'I allows you'll look on him as a acquisition.'

"'All the same,' returns Enright, an' I never knows him more forbiddin', 'yereafter please confine your annoyin' assidooities to drivin' stage, an' don't go tryin' to improve the outlook of this camp.'

"Monte, with this, gets that dismal he sheds tears. 'Which it shore looks like I can't do nothin' right,' he sobs.

"'Then don't,' says Enright.

"From the start, Monte graves himse'f upon the mem'ry of folk as the first sport, to onroll his blankets in Cochise County, who consoomes normal over twenty drinks a day. Upon festal occasions like Noo Year's, an' Christmas, an' Fo'th of Jooly, an' Thanksgivin', no gent who calls himse'f a gent thinks of keepin' tabs on a fellow gent, no matter how freequent he signs up to Black Jack. On gala o'casions, sech as them noted, the bridle is plumb off the hoss, an' even though you drinks to your capac'ty an' some beyond, no one's that vulgar as to go makin' remarks. But that ain't Monte; he's different a heap. It looks like every day is Fo'th of Jooly with him, he's that inveterate in his reemorseless hankerin' for nosepaint.

"Also, regyarded as to his social side, Monte, as I states former, is a nooisance. Knowin' folks, too, is his fad. Only so you give him licker enough, he'll go surgin' round accostin' every gent he sees. No matter how austere a stranger is, Monte'll tackle him. An' at that he never says nothin' worth hearin', an' in its total absence of direction his conversation resembles nothin' so much as a dog chasin' its tail.

"An' then thar's them footile bluffs he's allers tryin' to run. He's been pesterin' in an' out of the Red Light one evenin' ontil he's got Black Jack incensed. As he comes squanderin' along, for say the twentieth time, Black Jack groans, an' murmurs,

"'Yere's that booze-soaked old hoss-thief ag'in!'

"Monte gets the echo of it, same as folks allers does when it ain't wanted, but he's onable to say who. So he stands thar by the bar, glarin' 'round an' snortin'. Final, he roars:

"'Who cuts loose that personal'ty?'

"Thar ain't no answer, an' Monte ag'in takes to pitchin' on his rope.

"'Show me the galoot who insults me,' he roars; 'let him no longer dog it, but p'int himse'f out as the gent.'

"'All right,' says Black Jack, whose indignation gets the best of his reespons'bilities as barkeep, 'which I'm the party who alloodes to you as a booze-soaked old hoss-thief.'

"'An' so you're the gent,' says Monte, castin' a witherin' glance at Black Jack; 'so you're the would-be sooicide who calls me a booze-soaked old hoss-thief?'

"'Which I'm the identical stingin' lizard. Now what is it you're so plumb eager to say?'

"'What am I eager to say? I merely wants to remark that you ain't done nothin' to swell up over. You-all needn't go thinkin' you're the first barkeep who calls me a booze-soaked old hoss-thief.'

"Havin' la'nched this yere, Monte turns off as stiffly pompous as though he ain't left a grease-spot of Black Jack.

"When folks won't listen to him no longer, Monte goes bulgin' forth into the highways an' the byways, an' holds long an' important discussions with signs, an' dry-goods boxes, an' sim'lar inan'mate elements of the landscape. Also, to mules an' burros. I remarks him myse'f, whisperin' in the onregyardful y'ear of a burro, an' said anamile as sound asleep as a tree. When that drunkard's through his confidences, he backs off, an' wavin' his paw plumb myster'ous at the burro says:

"'Remember, now; I'm givin' you this yere p'inter as a friend.'

"That time Black Jack offends Monte, after the latter hits the sidewalk followin' what he clar'ly considers is his crushin' come-back on Black Jack, he gets the feelin' that Jack's ha'ntin' along on his trail. Before he's gone fifty foot, he w'irls about, an' shouts:

"'Don't you-all follow me! Which, if you crowds me, them places that has knowed you won't know you no more forever.'

"When Monte gets off this menace, it seems like the Black Jack specter becomes intim'dated, an' tries to squar' itse'f.

"'What's that?' Monte asks, after listenin' mighty dignified to the spook's excuses; 'you begs my pardon? Not another word. If you-all keeps on talkin' now you'll sp'ile it. Thar's my hand,' givin' the fingers of the phantom a mighty earnest squeeze. 'I'm your friend, an' that goes.'

"Havin' established a peace, Monte insists that the Black Jack phantom b'ar him company to the O. K. Restauraw. In spite of all Missis Rucker can say or do, he plants the spook at the table, feeds it on the best that's in the kitchen, an' all as confident as if it's shorely troo. Also, he insists on payin' for two.

"When Missis Rucker tries to show him he's down wrong, he refooses to have it that way.

"'Do you-all reckon, Ma'am, that I can't trust my eyes none?' he demands. 'Which you'll tell me next that them airtights I tops of with is figments.'

"'But thar's only one of you-all,' Missis Rucker persists.

"'Ma'am,' returns Monte, his manner plumb s'picious, 'I don't jest quite sense your little game. Whatever it is, however, you-all can't play it on old Monte. You write back to my fam'ly an' the neighbors, an' the least flatterin' among 'em'll tell you that I'm as cunnin' as a squinch owl. Thar's two of us who feeds, an' for two of us I settles. Bein' a woman, you're too feeble-witted for reason, too mendacious for trooth.'

"'Don't you go callin' me no woman,' says Missis Rucker, her eyes snappin', 'onless you're ready to cash in.'

"'Women!' repeats Monte, sort o' addressin' the scenery, but still plenty cynical, 'what be they except a fleetin' show to man's deloosion given. Also, thar's nothin' to 'em. You opens their front door, an' you're in their back yard.'

"Texas has been givin' y'ear to the talk. It's before his Laredo wife starts ropin' for that divorce; but she's already makin' war medicine, an' the signs an' signal smokes which p'int to an uprisin' is vis'ble on every hill. Texas is careful not to let Missis Rucker hear him none, but as he walks away, he mutters:

"'That ghost-seein' sport's got the treemors, but all the same I strings with him on them estimates of ladies.'

"Texas is that fav'rably affected about Monte, he talks things over with Tutt, who himse'f ain't married to Tucson Jennie none as yet. Them nuptials, an' that onbiased blessin', little Enright Peets Tutt, who results tharfrom, comes along later.

"'Which thar's good in that Monte maverick,' says Texas; 'only so we could get the nosepaint out of him.'

"'Now, I wouldn't wonder none, neither,' says Tutt.

"'He drinkt up two quarts an' a half yesterday,' says Texas.

"'Ain't thar no steps which can be took?' Tutt asks. 'Two quarts an' a half, though, shore sounds like he's somethin' of a prop'sition.'

"These yere remarks is made in the Red Light, an' Tutt an' Texas appeals to Cherokee, whar that courtier of fortune is settin' in behind his lay-out. Cherokee waves 'em off, p'lite but firm.

"'Don't ask me none,' he says. 'You-all knows my doctrines. Let every gent kill his own snakes.'

"'That's my theology,' remarks Boggs, who has just come ramblin' in from the Noo York store, whar he's been changin' in a bundle of money for shirts; 'I recalls how, when I'm a prattlin' yearlin', hearin' Parson Ed'ards of the Cambellite Church quotin' whar Cain gives it out cold that he's not his brother's keeper; an' even at that onthinkin' age I fully endorses Cain's p'sition.'

"The talk takes in Black Jack, who, by virchoo of him bein' a barkeep, nacherally savvys a heap about the licker question. Jack reelates how a sot he knows back in Arkansaw is shocked into never takin' a drink, by simply blowin' his hand off accidental while tanked up.

"'Whang! goes the old Betsy,' says Jack, 'an' that slave to licker's shy his left hand. "Which it lets me out!" he exclaims; an' datin' from said catastrophy he'd no more tech nosepaint, that a-way, than he'd join the church.'

"'But it's doubtful,' observes Tutt, 'if Enright stands to let us shoot this yere Monte drunkard's hand off.'

"'It's ten to one he won't,' says Texas; 'still thar ought to be other schemes for shockin' a party into moral'ty, which stops short o' cripplin' him for life.'

"'But is this yere inebriate worth the worry?' asks Boggs. 'Also, it shore strikes me as mighty gratooitous for us to go reorganizin' the morals of a plumb stranger, an' him not even asked.'

"'Which he's worth the worry all right,' Texas replies. 'Thar's no efforts too great, when thar's a chance to save a party who has the same thorough onderstandin' of ladies which this gent has.'

"Up over the Red Light bar is a stuffed bobcat, the same bein' held as decorative. Only the day before Texas and Tutt stands talkin', a couple of Enright's riders comes packin' a live bobcat into town, which between 'em they ropes up over in the foothills of the Tres Hermanas, an' jams labor'ously into a pa'r of laiggin's. The same idee seizes on Texas an' Tutt yoonanimous. They sees that it only calls for the intelligent use of that Bar-8 bobcat, which them cow-punchers of Enright's ties down, to reegen'rate Monte, an' make him white as snow.

"Monte's ain't present none, bein' over to the O. K. House. By bein' plumb painstakin', Tutt an' Texas gets a collar onto the captive Bar-8 bobcat, an' chains him up over the Red Light bar, in place of the stuffed bobcat, deeposed. The Bar-8 bobcat jumps off once or twict before he learns, an' comes mighty clost to lynchin' himse'f. But Black Jack is patient, an' each time pokes him back with a cha'r. After mebby the third jump, it gets proned into the bobcat that thar's nothin' in it for him to go hurlin' himse'f into space that a-way, an' bein' saved from death by hangin' only through the cha'r-laig meditations of Black Jack. Acceptin' this yere view, he stands pat on his shelf. Likewise, he shore looks mighty vivid up thar, an' has got that former stuffed predecessor of his beat four ways from the jack.

"We're hankerin' around, now the Bar-8 bobcat's organized, waitin' for Monte to come amblin' up, an' be reformed.

"'An' you can gamble,' Tutt says, 'that the shock it'll throw into him'll have a ben'ficial effect. Shootin' off a hand or so ain't in it with the way that drunkard's goin' to feel.'

"'That's the way I figgers,' Texas remarks. 'One glance at that bobcat, him on the verge of the treemors, an' thar'll a thrill go through his rum-soaked frame like the grace of heaven through a camp meetin'. For one, I antic'pate most excellent effects. Whatever do you think, Doc?'

"'Whatever do I think?' Peets repeats. 'Which I thinks that, as the orig'nators of this yere cure for the licker habit, it'll be up to you an' Dave to convey the patient to his room at the O. K. House, as soon as ever you can control his struggles.'

"Monte at last heaves in sight, an' comes shiverin' up to the bar, every nerve as tight as a fiddle string. Black Jack shoves him the bottle.

"'What stuffed anamile sharp,' says Tutt, craftily directin' himself at Black Jack, 'mounts that bobcat up thar?'

"Monte nacherally raises his eyes. Thar's that Bar-8 feline, half-crouched, glarin' down on him with green eyes, big as moons.

"That settles it.

"Monte gives a yell which they hears in Red Dog. Wharupon the bobcat, takin' it for a threatenin' deemonstration, onfolds in an answerin' yell, an' makes a scramblin' jump at Monte's head. Shore, he don't land none, bein' brought up short, like a roped pony. Thar he swings, cussin' an' spittin' an' clawin', as mad as a drunken squaw, an' begins all over to hang himse'f afresh.

"Monte?

"That victim of appetite falls to the floor as dead an' flat as a wet December leaf.

"Actin' on them instructions, Tutt an' Texas picks Monte up an' packs him across to Peets, who, after fussin' over him for mebby an hour, brings him round s'fficient so he goes from one convulsion into another, in what you-all might deescribe as an endless chain of fits. Thar's nothin' to it; Peets is indoobitable the best equipped drug sharp that ever breaks loose in Arizona. At that, while Monte lives, he don't but jest. He's shore close enough at one time to kingdom come to hear the singin'.

"For two weeks Monte's boilin' an' boundin' round in his blankets, Texas an' Tutt, feelin' a heap reemorseful, standin' watch and watch. It's decided that no more attempts to reform him will be made, him bein'--accordin' to Peets--too far gone that a-way.

"'He's plumb onreform'ble,' explains Peets; 'whiskey's got to be so much a second nacher with him, that the only way you-all could cure him now is kill him.'

"By way of partial rep'ration for what he suffers, as soon as Monte can ag'in move about, Enright calls a meetin' of the camp, an' dooly commissions him 'Offishul Drunkard,' with a absoloote an' non-reevok'ble license to go as far as he likes.

"'This yere post of offishul drunkard,' Enright explains to the meetin', 'carries with it no money, no power, an' means only that he's free to drink from dark to daylight an' to dark ag'in, oncriticized, onreproved, an' onsaved. Colonel Sterett imparts to us in the last Daily Coyote how them Hindoos has their sacred cobras. Cobras not bein' feas'ble none in Arizona, Wolfville in loo of sech accepts old Monte. Yereafter, w'arin' the title of offishul drunkard, he takes his place in the public regyard as Wolfville's sacred cobra.'

"When Monte learns of his elevation, his eyes fills up with gratified pride, an' as soon as ever he's able to stand the w'ar an' t'ar, he goes on a protracted public drunk, by way of cel'bration, while we looks tol'rantly on.

"'Gents,' he says, 'I thanks you. Yereafter the gnawin' tooth of conscience will be dulled, havin' your distinguished endorsement so to do. Virchoo is all right in its place. But so is vice. The world can't all be good an' safe at one an' the same time. Which if we all done right, an' went to the right, we'd tip the world over. Half has got to do wrong an' go to the left, to hold things steady. That's me; I was foaled to do wrong an' go to the left. It's the only way in which a jealous but inscroot'ble Providence permits me to serve my hour. Offishul drunkard! Ag'in I thanks you. Which this yere's the way I long have sought, an' mourned because I found it not, long meter.'

"Boggs is the only gent who takes a gloomy view.

"'That's fine for this yere egreegious Monte,' says Boggs, talkin' to Enright; 'as Wolfville's pet drunkard an' offishul cobra, he's mighty pleasantly provided for. But how about the camp? Whar does Wolfville come in? We're a strong people; but does any gent pretend that we possesses the fortitoode reequired to b'ar up through all the comin' rum-soaked years?--an' all onder the weight of this yere onmatched inebriate, whom by our own act an' as offishul drunkard, we onmuzzles in our shrinkin' midst? Gents, this thing can't last.'

"'Not necessar'ly, Dan,' retorts Enright, his manner trenchin' on the cold; 'not necessar'ly. Let me expound the sityooation. I need not remind you-all that Sand Creek Riley, who drives the Tucson stage, gets bumped off the other evenin', while preeposterously insistin' that aces-up beats three-of-a-kind. Realizin' the trooth of half what you has said, Dan, I this evenin' enters into strategic reelations with the stage company's agent; an' as a reesult, an' datin' from now on, old Monte will be hired to fill the place of Sand Creek Riley, whom we all regrets. It's hardly reequired that I p'int out the benefits of this yere arrangement. As stage driver, old Monte for every other night will get sawed off on Tucson. An' I misjedges the vitality of this camp if, with the pressure on it thus relieved, an' Tucson carryin' half the load, it's onable to live through. In my opinion, Dan, by the light of this explanation, you at least oughter hope for the best.'

"'That's whatever!' says Boggs, who's plumb convinced; 'if I'd waited ontil you was heard, Sam, I'd never voiced them apprehensions. But the fact is, this yere Monte cobra of ours, with his bibbin's an' his guzzlin's, has redooced me to a condition of nervous prostration. It's all right now. Which I will say, however, that I can't reeflect none without a shudder on what them Tucson folks'll say an' think, so soon as ever they wakes up to what's been played on 'em.'"

[The end]
Alfred Henry Lewis's short story: Old Monte, Official Drunkard

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