The upshot of the matter was that the Honourable Timothy Clare
and I had a most excellent month's excursion, shot several good
bear, and returned to Tucson the best of friends.
At Tucson was Schiefflein and his stories of a big strike down
in the Apache country. Nothing would do but that we should both
go to see for ourselves. We joined the second expedition; crept
in the gullies, tied bushes about ourselves when monumenting
corners, and so helped establish the town of Tombstone. We made
nothing, nor attempted to. Neither of us knew anything of
mining, but we were both thirsty for adventure, and took a
schoolboy delight in playing the game of life or death with the
Chiricahuas.
In fact, I never saw anybody take to the wild life as eagerly as
the Honourable Timothy Clare. He wanted to attempt everything.
With him it was no sooner see than try, and he had such an
abundance of enthusiasm that he generally succeeded. The balloon
pants soon went. In a month his outfit was irreproachable. He
used to study us by the hour, taking in every detail of our
equipment, from the smallest to the most important. Then he
asked questions. For all his desire to be one of the country, he
was never ashamed to acknowledge his ignorance.
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