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bridge itself； and two lights on the farther bank showed where stood the
hog…ranch opposite Drybone。 They went on over the table…land and
reached the next herald of the town； Drybone's chief historian； the
graveyard。 Beneath its slanting headboards and wind…shifted sand lay
many more people than lived in Drybone。 They passed by the fence of this
shelterless acre on the hill； and shoutings and high music began to reach
them。 At the foot of the hill they saw the sparse lights and shapes of the
town where ended the gray strip of road。 The many soundsfeet； voices；
and musicgrew clearer； unravelling from their muffled confusion； and
the fiddling became a tune that could be known。〃
〃There's a dance to…night；〃 said the wife to the husband。 〃Hurry。〃
He drove as he had been driving。 Perhaps he had not heard her。
〃I'm telling you to hurry；〃 she repeated。 〃My new dress is in that
wagon。 There'll be folks to welcome me here that's older friends than
you。〃
She put her horse to a gallop down the broad road toward the music
and the older friends。 The husband spoke to his horse； cleared his throat
and spoke louder； cleared his throat again and this time his sullen voice
carried； and the animal started。 So Lusk went ahead of Lin McLean；
following his wife with the new dress at as good a pace as he might。 If he
did not want her company； perhaps to be alone with the cow…puncher was
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still less to his mind。
〃It ain't only her he's stopped caring for；〃 mused Lin； as he rode slowly
along。 〃He don't care for himself any more。〃
PART III
To…day； Drybone has altogether returned to the dust。 Even in that day
its hour could have been heard beginning to sound； but its inhabitants were
rather deaf。 Gamblers； saloon…keepers； murderers； outlaws male and
female； all were so busy with their cards； their lovers； and their bottles as
to make the place seem young and vigorous； but it was second childhood
which had set in。
Drybone had known a wholesome adventurous youth； where manly
lives and deaths were plenty。 It had been an army post。 It had seen horse
and foot； and heard the trumpet。 Brave wives had kept house for their
captains upon its bluffs。 Winter and summer they had made the best of it。
When the War Department ordered the captains to catch Indians； the wives
bade them Godspeed。 When the Interior Department ordered the captains
to let the Indians go again； still they made the best of it。 You must not
waste Indians。 Indians were a source of revenue to so many people in
Washington and elsewhere。 But the process of catching Indians； armed
with weapons sold them by friends of the Interior Department； was not
entirely harmless。 Therefore there came to be graves in the Drybone
graveyard。 The pale weather…washed head…boards told all about it： 〃Sacred
to the memory of Private So…and…So； killed on the Dry Cheyenne； May 6；
1875。〃 Or it would be； 〃Mrs。 So…and…So； found scalped on Sage Creek。〃
But even the financiers at Washington could not wholly preserve the
Indian in Drybone's neighborhood。 As the cattle by ten thousands came
treading with the next step of civilization into this huge domain； the
soldiers were taken away。 Some of them went West to fight more Indians
in Idaho； Oregon； or Arizona。 The battles of the others being done； they
went East in better coffins to sleep where their mothers or their comrades
wanted them。 Though wind and rain wrought changes upon the hill； the
ready…made graves and boxes which these soldiers left behind proved
heirlooms as serviceable in their way as were the tenements that the living
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had bequeathed to Drybone。 Into these empty barracks came to dwell and
do business every joy that made the cow…puncher's holiday； and every
hunted person who was baffling the sheriff。 For the sheriff must stop
outside the line of Drybone； as shall presently be made clear。 The captain's
quarters were a saloon now； professional cards were going in the adjutant's
office night and day； and the commissary building made a good dance…hall
and hotel。 Instead of guard…mounting； you would see a horse…race on the
parade…ground； and there was no provost…sergeant to gather up the broken
bottles and old boots。 Heaps of these choked the rusty fountain。 In the tufts
of yellow； ragged grass that dotted the place plentifully were lodged many
aces and queens and ten…spots； which the Drybone wind had blown wide
from the doors out of which they had been thrown when a new pack was
called for inside。 Among the grass tufts would lie visitors who had applied
for beds too late at the dance…hall； frankly sleeping their whiskey off in the
morning air。
Above； on the hill； the graveyard quietly chronicled this new epoch of
Drybone。 So…and…so was seldom killed very far out of town； and of course
scalping had disappeared。 〃Sacred to the memory of Four…ace Johnston；
accidently shot； Sep。 4； 1885。〃 Perhaps one is still there unaltered： 〃Sacred
to the memory of Mrs。 Ryan's babe。 Aged two months。〃 This unique
corpse had succeeded in dying with its boots off。
But a succession of graves was not always needed to read the changing
tale of the place； and how people died there； one grave would often be
enough。 The soldiers； of course； had kept treeless Drybone supplied with
wood。 But in these latter days wood was very scarce。 None grew nearer
than twenty or thirty milesnone； that is； to make boards of a sufficient
width for epitaphs。 And twenty miles was naturally far to go to hew a
board for a man of whom you knew perhaps nothing but what he said his
name was； and to whom you owed nothing； perhaps； but a trifling poker
debt。 Hence it came to pass that headboards grew into a sort of directory。
They were light to lift from one place to another。 A single coat of white
paint would wipe out the first tenant's name sufficiently to paint over it the
next comer's。 By this thrifty habit the original boards belonging to the
soldiers could go round； keeping pace with the ne