Again she hesitated, to be helped on by Sage-brush with the assurance: "She'll do it—fire away—it's a—"
"A—"
"Go on."
Sage-brush in his enthusiasm backed too far into the blanket screen. His spurs became entangled. To save himself from a fall, he threw out his hand behind him. They struck the polished cover of the instrument, slid off, and Sage-brush sat down on the keys with an unmistakable crash.
"A piano!" cried Echo exultantly.
"Who done that?" demanded Show Low angrily.
Parenthesis, from his place on the floor, looked at the mischief-maker in disgust. "Sage-brush!" he shouted.
"Givin' the hull thing away," snarled Fresno.
Show Low could contain himself no longer. Going up to Sage-brush, he shook his fist in his face, saying: "You're the limit. You ought to be herdin' sheep."
The victim of the accident humbly replied: "I couldn't help it."