When Oscar Went Wild

by W. C. Tuttle

When Oscar Went Wild

by W. C. Tuttle

Author of “Derelicts of the Hills,” “Magpie’s Nightbear.”

Ren Merton and Sig Watson had spent the night in Piperock and of a consequence were in no shape to appreciate the beauties of the dewy morn, as their horses picked their way up the trail to the top of Overwhich ridge.

“Them Piperock fellers play poker like I sing,” stated Sig, as they pulled up their mounts for a breathing spell. “They gits their words and music so mixed that nobody knows what they’re tryin’ to do. They’re uh success, though.”

Ren removed his sombrero with an exaggerated flourish and, lifting himself in his stirrups, broke forth in a shrill falsetto:

“Nobode-e-e-e knows how dry I am.”

“Shut up!”

“Mama mine, he won’t let me sing,” wailed Ren. “I lost jist as much as he did and m’ head aches jist as hard and he won’t let m’ sing. What do yuh know about that!”