Part 2

A group of excited people stood by my bed. Two of the figures I recognized only too well. One was tall and had a long flowing spotted mustache. The other had black skirts and a terrible disposition. Old Walrus and Battling Mary!

“Yes indeed, it’s them!” screamed Mary. “Don’t I know the scoundrels? Didn’t I see them destroy hundreds of dollars’ worth of merchandise for me? Will I, or will I not, get justice?”

“Be calm, madam, be calm!” said a soothing voice. “They are in no shape to be questioned now. They have some money which we have deposited in our safe. We feel sure it will more than cover your claims--”

* * * * *

The group moved from the bed, and I took a look around. Bearcat was stretched out in another cot, close by. Unconsciousness had give him a look of almost human intelligence.

Our good bronk-ridin’ money to go for ruint lingerie!

Just then I saw old Walrus glarin’ at me. His Adam’s apple was travelin’ at a terrific rate of speed. Gosh, that man was mad! I remembered him wallowin’ under the dummies and all the silk what-nots--and I covered up my head, and the white sheet began to shake, quiver and roll.

A nurse run out and pulled the covers from my tearful face. She was a stunning-looking girl!

She patted my pillow, a smile on her lips. Oh, well, maybe things wasn’t as bad as they looked.

“You’re a funny one,” said the nurse. “Unconscious one minute, laughing fit to be tied the next. You cowboys are strange fellows.”

“Lady,” said I, “you don’t know the half of it!”

[Transcriber’s note: This story appeared in the March, 1929 issue of _The Blue Book_ magazine.]