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Wild coolly stepped from the post. "Up with your hands, you sneaking coyotes!" he cried in a ringing voice. "I reckon ther jig is up now. Arietta has paid ther toll!" Then Wild calmly reached out and took another revolver from the belt of the nearest man to him. Two of the villains held up their hands, but the rest made a bolt for the cave. Crack!
They all took advantage of it but one, and that was Arietta. "I reckon you'll pay toll fur coming through Forbidden Pass, Young Wild West!" one of the villains exclaimed. "Hold him tight, boys! I'm glad yer didn't kill him when that shot was fired at him. I told Chuck not ter do it. Ther captain wants him alive. Git ther gal, too! This is what I call collectin' toll, all right!"
It would have edified him, who prides himself on his deep knowledge of human nature, or who seizes with avidity on the minuter traits of a nation, to note with what attention the English valet, would listen to a Milanese arietta; whose love notes, delivered by the unmusical Pietro, were about as effectively pathetic as the croak of the bull frog in a marsh, or screech of owl sentimentalising in ivied ruin; and to mark with what gravity, the Italian driver would beat his hand against the table; in tune to "Ben Baxter," or "The British Grenadiers," roared out more Anglico.
But I think I can pay it, though." "Where is your money, gal?" The lieutenant of the outlaw band became interested right away. "I don't know as I have got to tell you where my money is," replied Arietta, coolly. "You don't suppose it is anywhere near here, do you? I wouldn't be wise if I carried a big pile of money around with me, would I?" "Well, I don't know about that part of it.
Honeycomb, who has prevailed upon her to admit me sometimes into her Assembly, as a civil, inoffensive Man. I found her accompanied with one Person only, a Common-Place Talker, who, upon my Entrance, rose, and after a very slight Civility sat down again; then turning to Arietta, pursued his Discourse, which I found was upon the old Topick, of Constancy in Love.
He was one day walking in his garden, when a flood of delicious, untutored notes burst on his ear, resolving itself finally into a brilliant arietta by Ga-luppi. The pretty little nymph who had poured out these wild-wood notes proved to be the daughter of his favorite cook.
Jest make up your mind that ther boys has got ter die, an' that you're likely ter go ther same way yourself. There's nothin' like resignin' yourself to your fate, yer know." "Oh, is that so?" Arietta looked at him with flashing eyes. Her defiant way struck Snivel as something wonderful, coming from a defenseless girl, as it did.
"I am of your opinion." "And you are right." He told me that he had never written an arietta without composing the music of it himself, but that as a general rule he never shewed his music to anyone. "The French," he added, "entertain the very strange belief that it is possible to adapt poetry to music already composed."
"Goodby!" he said. "When you finder lat me allee samee keepee my word you let Misler Wild go. Len you all go 'way, and nobody hurtee you." Hop lost no time in getting outside. He found the girls where the horses were. But Jim and Arietta were nowhere to be seen. "Missy Anna," he said to the scout's wife, "you and Missy Eloise allee samee takee horses and lide to meet um miners.
We'll go right on through, unless it happens that we are stopped by the outlaws. When we come back I'll show you the place where Cap Roche disappeared last night." "I would like to go along, Wild," spoke up Arietta, "Why can't we all go?" "Well, it might make it a little bad in case the villains took a notion to hold us up," was the reply. "But if you want to go real bad I suppose you may."
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