After that they set fire to the outfit, and, when the poles bad burned through, the whole business fell into the trench of its own accord.

It was the neatest, automatic, self-cocking, double-action sort of a funeral I ever saw.

There wasn't any ceremony--only crying.
The ferry business flourished at prices which were sometimes hard to collect.

But it was a case of pay or go back, and it was a tur'ble long ways back.

We got us timbers and made a scow; built a baile and saloon and houses out of adobe; and called her Yuma, after the Injins that had really started her.