Mighty good squaw once; but heap dead now.' "Then Hardrobe an' Bloojacket rides over an' fixes a little flag they've got in their war-bags to a pole which sticks up'ards outen this tomb, flyin' the ensign as Injuns allers does, upside down.
"It's six months later, mebby--an' it's now the hard luck begins--when I hears how Hardrobe weds a dance-hall girl over to Caldwell.

This maiden's white; an' as beautiful as a flower an' as wicked as a trant'ler.

Hardrobe brings her to his ranch in the Osage country.
"The next tale I gets is that Bloojacket, likewise, becomes a victim to the p'isenous fascinations of this Caldwell dance-hall damsel, an' that him an' Hardrobe falls out; Hardrobe goin' on the warpath an' shootin' Bloojacket up a lot with a Winchester.

He don't land the boy at that; Bloojacket gets away with a shattered arm.

Also, the word goes that Hardrobe is still gunnin' for Bloojacket, the latter havin' gone onder cover some'ers by virchoo of the injured pinion.
"As Colonel Sterett says, these pore aborigines experiences bad luck the moment ever they takes to braidin' in their personal destinies with a paleface.