CHAPTER X.
The Ghost of the Bar-B-8.
"Spectres?
Never! I refooses 'em my beliefs utter"; and with these emphatic words the Old Cattleman tasted his liquor thoughtfully on his tongue.

The experiment was not satisfactory; and he despatched his dark retainer Tom for lemons and sugar.

"An' you-all might better tote along some hot water, too;" he commanded.

"This nosepaint feels raw an' over-fervid; a leetle dilootion won't injure it none." "But about ghosts ?" I persisted.
"Ghosts ?" he retorted.

"I never does hear of but one; that's a apparition which enlists the attentions of Peets and Old Man Enright a lot.