Say! I was roped–right ’round my shoulders, like I’d roped Simpson! And I was plumb helpless. That look of hern was a lasso, pullin’ me to her, steady and shore. “Macie–Macie Sewell,” I whispered to myself, and I reckon my lips moved.
“You blamed idjit!” says Hairoil, out loud almost, “what’s the matter with you? You’ll have me outen this winda in a minute!”
The Judge was bowin’ some more. “We have now come to the middle of our program,” he says. “But ’fore I begin announcin’ the last half, which is our best, I want to tell you all a story.
“Ladies and gents, I come t’ Briggs to bring you a message–a message which I feel bound to deliver. And I’ve gone through a turrible lot to be able to stand here to-night and say to you what I’m a-goin’ to say.
“Listen! Years ago, a little boy, about so high, with his father and mother and ’leven sisters and brothers, started to cross the Plains with a’ ox-team. They reached the Blackfoot country safe. But there, ladies and gents, a turrible thing happened to ’em. One day, more’n four hunderd Injuns surrounded they wagon and showed fight. They fit ’em back, ladies and gents,–the father and the mother and the children, killin’ a good many bucks and woundin’ more. But the Injuns was too many fer that pore fambly. And in a’ hour, the reds had captured one little boy–whilst the father and mother and the ’leven sisters and brothers was no more!” (The Judge, he sniffled a little bit.)
“The little boy was carried to a big Injun camp,” he goes on. “And it was here, ladies and gents,–it was here he seen won-derful things. He seen them Injuns that was wounded put some salve on they wounds and be healed; he seen others, that was plumb tuckered with fightin’, drink a blackish medicine and git up like new men. Natu’lly, he wondered what was in that salve, and what was in that medicine. Wal, he made friends with a nice Injun boy. He ast him questions about that salve and that medicine. He learnt what plants was dug to make both of ’em. Then, one dark night, he crawled outen his wigwam on his hands and knees. Behind him come his little Injun friend. They went slow and soft to where was the pony herd. They caught up two fast ponies, and clumb onto ’em, dug in they spurs, and started eastwards as fast as they could go. The white boy’s heart was filled with joy, ladies and gents. He had a secret in his bosom that meant health to ev’ry man, woman and child of his own race. As he galloped along, he says to hisself, ‘I'll spend my life givin’ this priceless secret to the world!’
“Wal, ladies and gents, that’s what he begun to do–straight off. And t’-night, my dear friends, that boy is in Briggs City!” (A-course, ev’rybody begun to look ’round fer him.) “Prob-’bly,” goes on the Judge, “they’s more’n a hunderd people in this town that’ll thank Providence he come: They’s little children that won’t be orphans; they’s wives that won’t be widdas. Fer he is anxious to tell ’em of a remedy that will cure a-a-all the ills of the body. And, ladies and gents, I–am–that–boy!”
That got the punchers so excited and so tickled, that they hollered and stamped and banged and done about twenty dollars’ worth of damage to the hall.
“My friends,” goes on the Judge, “I have prepared, aided by my dear Injun comrade here, the sev’ral kinds of medicines discovered by the Blackfeet.” The fancy-vests, rigged out like Irishmen, was fixin’ a table and puttin’ bottles on to it. “I have these wonderful medicines with me, and I sell ’em at a figger that leaves only profit enough fer the five of us to live on. I do more’n that. Ev’rywheres I go, I present, as a soovneer of my visit, a handsome, solid-gold watch and chain.”
Out come that singin’ lady, hoidin’ the watch and chain in front of her so’s the crowd could see. My! what a lot of whisperin’!