In Self Defense

“Prohibition,” remarked Ike Harper, loosening up a notch in his belt and rolling a fresh smoke, “is goin’ to make two roses bloom in this country where only one bloomed before. ’Cause why? One drink uh bootleg hooch will bring blossoms to th’ face of uh wooden Injun, and also it’s goin’ to work uh hardship on real old maids and homely females of all descriptions. Lissen, and I’ll orate how I knows.”

Ren Merton was uh trouble-huntin’ fool of uh puncher, and Sig Watson was his first assistant. I might say that Sig was his aid-de-camp, secretary and treasurer. Them two hombres punched cows fer uh livin’ and hunted trouble fer pastime.

If th’ combined brains of th’ two was turned to powder and put into uh .22 ca’tridge shell it wouldn’t blow th’ bullet out of uh six-inch pistol barrel, and if it was black powder it wouldn’t foul th’ shell.

They punched fer th’ Triangle outfit all one summer, and then decides to go into th’ cattle business fer themselves. Not havin’ saved enough between ’em to buy uh green hide, they decides to go into th’ business anyway.

Magpie Simpkins was th’ sheriff at th’ time and, havin’ uh real friendly feelin’ fer th’ boys, he don’t arrest ’em a-tall. He jist shoots th’ hot cinch ring out of Ren’s hand, cuts th’ heifer loose and fergets th’ whole affair.

They rides back to town, where Ren gits prodigal with his six-gun ammunition, with th’ result that th’ atmosphere gits too warm fer comfort, and they grabs their hosses and fogs off to th’ Seven A ranch and go to work again.

Well, fer th’ next month they behaves fine—said month bein’ spent on th’ roundup out in th’ Sweetgrass hills, so far from town that it takes two days hard ridin’ to find anything except personal animosities, which ain’t sufficient.

Th’ nearest town is Piperock. Piperock ain’t what you’d call uh thrivin’ city—not havin’ uh Chamber of Commerce or an Ad Club, but she manages to angle along anyway. It contains about uh hundred human beings and a Greaser settlement.

Well, as I said before, Ren and Sig works steady fer uh while and then collects their stipend, rolls their war-sacks and moseys to town to revel amid th’ bright lights and enjoy th’ fruits of their labor.

They says “Klahowya” to Buck Masterson, th’ saloon keeper, and proceeds to pay rent on th’ saloon 

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