"Nope, I've retired," sez I.
"You'd ought to have stuck around here until that tourist went home from his vacation," sez Bill,—I reckon his name was still Bill, though for the life o' me I can't remember it plain,—"he got the whole town hilarious on account o' the joke we'd played on him. He was game all right, an' he got me a job out to his uncle's, which I've held ever since—off an' on."
"Happy?" sez Hank Midders, "Happy what?"
"Happy Hawkins," sez Bill. "Haven't you never heard o' Happy Hawkins?"
"Happy Hawkins is down in the Texas-Pan Handle," sez I, in a matter-o'-fact voice. "Don't forget that, Bill."
"Surest thing there is," sez Bill, winkin'. "I seen him get on the train myself."
"When will supper be ready, Frenchy?" I sez to the snarley one, who had been puttin' some grease on his ears an' wishin' he'd had better manners.
"In about an hour," sez he, an' I knew the' wouldn't be any more trouble from him. He was one o' these fellers what can take a lickin' without gettin' all broke up over it, an' he'd be just as gay about bluffin' the next stranger as ever, an' he'd be just as dominatin' over them what he had already bluffed.
"Well, I'm goin' out for a little stroll," sez I, "but I'll be back in time for supper, an' I'll likely be hungry."
I knew they'd all want to ask a few questions, so I went outside an' walked down the street. I couldn't make up my mind what to do, an' I wanted that fence-ridin' job more than ever. When T turned around to come back, I see Hank Midders walkin' toward me. "So you're Happy Hawkins?" sez he.