The old gentleman, thus mollified, resumed:
"Goin' back to this yere Tutt-Texas collision, thar's no denyin', an' be fa'r about it, but what Tutt has grounds. For goin' on five years he's been looked up to as the only father in camp, an' for Texas to appear at what you-all might call the 'leventh hour an' go crowdin' disdainfully into the picture on nothin' more'n bein' a uncle, is preepost'rous. To prance 'round on sech a meager showin', puttin' on the dog he does, an' all in a somber, overbearin' way like he's packin' the world on his shoulders an' we-all's got to be a heap careful 263 not to do nothin' to him to make him drop it, is inexcoosable to the verge of outrage. No rel'tive in the third or fo'th degree is jestified to assoome sech sooperiorities; an' Enright tells Texas so after Peets digs the lead out of the thick of his laig.
"Which we gets orig'nal notice about Annalinda, when a passel of us, as is our custom followin' first drink time in the evenin', drifts into the post office. Some gets letters, some don't; an' Texas, who, as a roole, don't have no voloominous correspondence, is sayin' that he has the same feelin' about letters he has about trant'lers, as bein' a heap more likely to sting you than anything else, when the postmaster shoves him out one.
"It's from Laredo, an' when Texas gets a glimpse at the mark on it he lets it fall onopened to the floor.
"'It's my former wife!' he says, with a shudder. 'Yere she is, startin' in to get the upper hand of me ag'in.'
"'Nonsense!' says Peets, pickin' up the letter, 'it's from some lawyers. Can't you see their names yere up in the corner?'
"'That don't mean nothin',' Texas 264 whispers––he's shore a heap shook; 'it'd be about her speed, as she goes plottin' afresh to ondermine me in my present peace, to rope up a law-wolf to show her how.'
"Bein' urged by Peets, an' the balance of us asshorin' him we'll stand pat in his destinies come what may an' defend him to the bitter finish, Texas manages to open the envelope. As he stands thar readin' the scare in his face begins to fade in favor of a look of gloom.
"'Gents,' he says, at last, 'it's my brother Ed. He's cashed in.' We expresses the reg'lation reegrets, an' Texas continyoos: 'Ed leaves me his baby girl, Annalinda––she's my niece.' After a pause he adds: 'This yere shore requires consideration.'
"'These law sharps,' explains Texas, when we're organized all sociable in the Red Light, an' Black Jack's come through on right an' reg'lar lines, 'allows it's Ed's dyin' reequest that I take an' ride paternal herd on this infant child.'