" It was a venerable custom of the country to
entitle as Swedes all light-haired men who spoke with a heavy
tongue. In consequence the idea of the cowboy was not without its
daring. "Yes, sir," he repeated. "It's my opinion this feller is
some kind of a Dutchman."
"Well, he says he's a Swede, anyhow," muttered Johnnie sulkily. He
turned to the Easterner: "What do you think, Mr. Blanc?"
"Oh, I don't know," replied the Easterner.
"Well, what do you think makes him act that way?" asked the cowboy.
"Why, he's frightened!" The Easterner knocked his pipe against a rim
of the stove. "He's clear frightened out of his boots."
"What at?" cried Johnnie and cowboy together.
The Easterner reflected over his answer.
"What at?" cried the others again.
"Oh, I don't know, but it seems to me this man has been reading
dime-novels, and he thinks he's right out in the middle of it- the
shootin' and stabbin' and all."
"But," said the cowboy, deeply scandalized, "this ain't Wyoming, ner
none of them places. This is Nebrasker."
"Yes," added Johnnie, "an' why don't he wait till he gits out West?"
The traveled Easterner laughed. "It isn't different there even-
not in these days. But he thinks he's right in the middle of hell."
Johnnie and the cowboy mused long.
"It's awful funny," remarked Johnnie at last.
"Yes," said the cowboy. "This is a queer game.
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