(I wrote this for my friend Robert Tracy and his loving wife Linda.)

I looked in the winda
An’ what did I see?
My slender gal Linda
A-lookin’ at me.

With gun in my holster
I was itchin’ to ride,
To catch me a rustler
Was hurtin’ my pride.

Old Brian ‘d rid over
An give me the word—
Some duster was rovin’
Away with my herd.

I looked in the winda
An’ what did I see?
My tender gal Linda
A-smilin’ at me.

She knowed I would get ‘im,
For my draw, it was fast;
Was sure I’d down set him
To lie with the past.

So up I goes leapin’
An’ springs on my bronc!
A date I was keepin’
That no one would stop.

We flew through Lost Canyon,
We skipped o’er Mad Creek,
With wind-like abandon
To find what we seek.

Then, saw him—-with nine of ’em,
My best ones, real fat,
An’ drew in a line to him,
Cornered the rat.

His face was in shock so
To see me right there,
As I rounded a flow-rock
An’ fixed him a stare.

His eyes began flittin’,
His elbows slight shook;
I think he hoped pity
Might soften my look.

But him I termed “Devil!”
No tear rimmed my eye.
A man takes to evil
Must learn him to die.

Now easy he reached up
Left hand to his hat,
Pretendin’ this dust-up
No serious spat.

His right flew to leather,
Quick gun flashed out bright!
But lightnin’s my weather
An’ said he goodnight.

Then back to my winda
I rode me to see—-
My wonder-gal Linda
A-winkin’ at me.