PAINTED ROCK
City," said Pillsbury, with a yawn, "at least, I've not sot eyes on one for days. And as for excitement, there ain't any. It's so derned dull and quiet and peaceful that my nerve is givin' out, and I expect something horrid to happen; eh, Gedge?"
"It is a mighty remarkable fact," replied the long-haired Georgian, "that such a period of peace in Painted Rock is mostly broke up by someone havin' a sudden funeral. I reckon that solid peace gets on our nerves, and the want of gayness and money is tryin' to us, and those that have a stake in the City feel it. Oh, I'd not be surprised if the calm was broke up any moment."
I took so much pity on their sad estate as to inquire if they would have a liquor with me.
"I should smile," said Pillsbury, and we went into the American House and had something destructive and highly poisonous at twenty-five cents a drink. While we stood up to the bar and discussed the trying peace, a stranger looked into the saloon as if he were seeking someone there, and I saw Gedge's eyes snap.
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