Jimmy Hayes and Muriel by O. Henry — Read

Supper was over, and there had fallen upon the camp the silence that accompanies the rolling of cornhusk cigarettes. The water hole shone from the dark earth like a patch of fallen sky. Coyotes yelped. Dull thumps indicated the rocking-horse movements of the hobbled ponies as they moved to fresh grass. A half-troop of the Frontier Battalion of Texas Rangers were distributed about the fire.

A well-known sound -- the fluttering and scraping of chaparral against wooden stirrups -- came from the thick brush above the camp. The rangers listened cautiously. They heard a loud and cheerful voice call out reassuringly: