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That red haid o' yours. Hear me?" Bob's head came up as though a spring had been released. "B-better. K-keep it up where it belongs. Now, then, w-what are you aimin' for to do?" Bob shook his head. "Get outa this country, like Hollister said. Find a hole somewheres an' pull it in after me." "No, sir. Not none.
The riders remained studiously polite in their inquiries: "Where ye from, stranger?" "Upper Cannon Ball." "Eh hah. How's the feed there this year?" "Pretty good." "Where ye aimin' at now, if it's a fair question?" "Bob Reynolds' ranch." "He's over on the head water of the South Fork, ain't he?" "Yes." "Well, it's a good piece yet. So long," they said in change of manner. "So long."
"No you ain't I bet you got dinner fer yo' step-mammy afore you left, an' I jes' know you was aimin' to take a snack with me an' ole Hon." The little girl hesitated she had no denial and the old fellow smiled kindly. "Come on, now."
Then you'll enjoy the little show I'm putting on five thousand dollars' worth of liquor spilt all at one time." "Holy Moses! Where is this blind tiger you're raidin'?" "Down in the gully. Lucky you happened along just by chance. You'll be able to carry the good news to Whoop-Up and adjacent points." "You're not really aimin' to spill all that whiskey." "That's my intention. Any objections?"
Well, we're aimin' to look through your herd. We've been missin' cattle all summer from my ranch, the Circle Bar. About three thousand head. We've traced 'em as far as Kinney's cañon, an' lost 'em. But we've been thinkin', Blackburn, that it ain't no hard job to make a passable Circle L out of a Circle Bar. That's why we aim to look your cattle over."
Pore Edson shore has his wish; he's cut the trail of folks who's cap'ble of aimin' low an' shootin' half way troo. "'These sperited moves I've been relatin' don't take no time in the doin'. The hairbrain play of Captain Edson forces our hands. The Old Man orders a charge, an' we pushes the Yanks back onto their hosses an' rescoos what's left of Edson an' his lancers.
"Oh, no! You'll stay to-night. I'll play for you. Make him stay, father." "I wish you would, Shoop. I'd like to talk with you about the election." "Well, now, that's right neighborly of you folks. I was aimin' to ride back this evening. But I reckon we'll stay. Bondsman and me ain't so spry as we was."
"Maybe not," assented Jim. "But I'd like mighty well to have you come just the same." Then he drew closer to his young friend; "I've been aimin' to ride over and see you, Matt; but Sammy said you was a comin' this evenin', and I 'lowed this would be soon enough. I reckon you know what Wash Gibbs is tellin' he aims to do first chance he gets."
"Without aimin' to toot my horn none, I got a notion I can wrangle dudes to a fare-ye-well. I'll give it a try-out, anyway. By the way, Major, have you seen Lingle? How's the case comin'?" The Major's face changed instantly and he said with quite obvious sarcasm: "He's busier than a man killin' rattlesnakes, and he's makin' himself unpopular, I can tell you, tryin' to stir up somethin'."
Or, play you was aimin' to dry-farm. You shape up your rig to suit yourself but play up to it." "I'll hay it," said Carr. "All right hay it, by all means. Take your first load of water out about twenty-five miles and leave it using as little as you can to camp on. You'll have to have three full sets of chains and whiffletrees for your six-horse team, of course.
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