“Then somebody fired a shot and I saw the blood trickle down his cheek where something had hurt him and he stopped hitting and began shooting. The booth was filled with smoke in a moment and the shots ceased. I heard him say——
“‘Ma’am, I reckon we better get out of here before the police and the undertaker comes.’
“I don’t know how we ever got out of there. I had to step over men who were lying on the floor and then I found myself in the open air, and Gladys was crying, and the man got a hack and took us home. I tried to thank him, but he just grinned, and then I—I grabbed him and kissed him! Honest I did. And as I ran into the house I heard him say——
“‘Well, I’ll be hornswoggled!’
“I have never seen him since then. I know I did not thank him enough, but if I ever see him again——”
“Yuh done quite a lot for him,” says Hashknife. “More than the lawyer done for me. Still, I reckon, he didn’t feel like kissin’ me. Did the police make any fuss over it?”
“We looked in the papers the next day, and it told about a fight in which three gangsters were killed and two more wounded. They were all wanted by the police, but it said nothing about the cowboy. If I ever see him again I want to thank him again.”
“Sure,” says Windy; “we all do. He sure done us a favor, too, ma’am.”
“I wish you would call me Mary Jane.”
“All right,” grins Hashknife, “but you’ve sure got to cut out misterin’ us, Mary Jane. We’re sort of ele-mental, as the poet would say. Hash, wind and sleep. Ain’t that elements? Haw! Haw! Haw!”