"'Don't belong to me,' says Charley. 'I shore don't want it. I 'm eatin' beans an' bacon instead.'
"'You send for that wire!' yells th' agent, wild-like.
"Charley winks. 'Can't you keep it passin' this station till it snows hard? Have a drink.'
"Well, th' agent wouldn't drink, an' he wouldn't send that pore wire out into a cold world no more; an' so Charley comes home an' reports, him lookin' wanlike. When he told us, he looked sort of funny, an' blurts out that his mother went an' died up in Laramie, an' he must shore 'nuff rustle up there an' bury her. He went.
"Then Fred Ball begun to have pains in his stomach, an' said it was appendix somethin', what he had been readin' about in th' papers. He had to go to Denver, an' get a good doctor, or he 'd shore die. He went.
"Carson had to go to Santa Fé to keep some of his numerous city lots from bein' sold off by th' sheriff. He went.
"Th' rest, bein' handicapped by th' good start th' others had made in corrallin' all th' excuses, said they 'd go for th' wire. They went.
"I waited four days, an' then I went after 'em. When I got to th' station, I sees th' agent out sizin' up our wire; an' when I hails, he jumps my way quick, an' grabs my laig tight.
"'You take that wire home!' he yells.
"'Shore,' says I soothingly. 'You looks mad,' I adds.