“Did Bill have any other occupations?” asked Lanky.
“Well,” said Joe, “he used to fight Indians jest for recreation, but he never did make a business of it like some did, huntin’ ’em for a dollar a scalp. In fact Bill was not bloodthirsty and cruel, and he never scalped an Indian in his life. He’d jest skin ’em and tan their hides.”
“That reminds me,” said Hank, “of another business he used to carry on as a sort of side-line, and that was huntin’ buffalo. You see, it was the hides that was valuable, and Bill thought it was too much of a waste to kill a buffalo jest for the hide; so he’d jest hold the critters and skin ’em alive and then turn ’em aloose to grow a new hide. A profitable business he built up, too, but he jest made one mistake.”
“What was that?” asked Lanky.
“One spring he skinned too early, and a norther come up, and all the buffalo took cold and died. Mighty few of ’em left after that.”
“Did Bill ever get married?” asked Lanky.
“Oh, yes,” said Joe. “He married lots of women in his day, but he never had the real tender affection for any of the rest of ’em that he had for his first wife, Slue-Foot Sue.
“Bill savvied courtin’ the ladies all right; yet he never took much stock in petticoats till he met Slue-Foot Sue; but when he saw that gal come ridin’ down the Río Grande on a catfish, it jest got next to him, and he married her right off.
“I say right off—but she made him wait a few days till she could send to San Antonio for a suitable and proper outfit, the principal garment bein’ a big steel wire bustle, like all the women wore when they dressed up in them days.
“Well, everything would have gone off fine, but on the very day of the weddin’ Sue took a fool notion into her head that she jest had to ride Widow-Maker. For a long time Bill wouldn’t hear to it, but finally she begun to cry, and said Bill didn’t love her any more. Bill jest couldn’t stand to see her cry; so he told her to go ahead but to be keerful.