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If a fellow started at one end of that street with a thirst he'd sure be salivated before he reached the other end of it," Stace said with a grin. "Wonder if a fellow could get a job there. They wouldn't have no use for a puncher, I reckon," Slim drawled. "Betcha Clay could get a job all right," answered Johnnie Green promptly. "He'd be top hand anywhere, Clay would."
Look at his shoulders." "I'll betcha ten he ain't the man." And an apologetic young fellow ran after him to ask if he was not, in truth, Mr. Banneker of The Ledger. Being no more than human, he experienced a feeling of mild excitation over all this.
You betcha, says Baron Maurice de Waleffe, the French satirist, who tells of a remarkable book of spirits' poems just published in Paris under the title of "The Glory of Illusion." Three years ago died Judith Gautier, niece of Theophile Gautier, and left a collection of slightly er passionate novels and collections of poems which were circulated among friends.
"Come and see us to-morrow, Harry," Janet called, as they drove off. "Morning, you betcha," Harry answered, waving his hat. "Child, don't make too many plans," Mrs. Todd warned. "Peter and I have filled up as much of your time as we dared." "And we dared an awful lot," Peter added, laughing. "Fact is, I don't think we left you more than a few minutes a day." "Oh, tell us what we have to do?"
"I had a little luck," admitted Dave modestly. "Betcha," agreed Steve. "I was just startin' over to haul the fat guy off Dave when he began bleatin' for us to come help him turn loose the bear. I kinda took my time then." "Onct I went to a play called 'All's Well That Ends Well," said Byington reminiscently. "At the Tabor Grand the-á-ter, in Denver."
"Then if Dale had had a riot with anybody else but the stranger man you'd 'a' knowed it." "You betcha. He didn't have no trouble, only with the stranger." "Did anybody else have any trouble with anybody while you was here?" At this Thompson frowned. Where were Racey's questions leading him? Was it a trap? Knowing Racey as he did, he feared the worst.
"That's him. That's sure him. If the' was two of him they'd ce'tainly be a hell-poppin' team. Clay he's the best-natured fellow you ever did see, but there can't nobody run a whizzer on him, y' betcha. Tell me where he's at?" "We don't know. We can show you the place where he tied the janitor, but that's the best we can do." The captain hesitated. "If you find him, give him a straight tip from me.
The little man nodded. "Mebbe they'll have green corn on the cob. Betcha the price of the dinner they do." "You've made a bet, dad." Stearns halted the leaders. "What's that? Listen." The sound of shots drifted to them punctuated by faint, far yells. The shots did not come in a fusillade. They were intermittent, died down, popped out again, yielded to whoops in distant crescendo.
We got to get help in a hurry. You ride to town and rustle men. Bring out plenty of dynamite and gunnysacks. Lucky we got the tools out here we brought to build the sump holes." "Betcha! We'll need a lot o' grub, too." The cattleman nodded agreement. "And coffee. Cayn't have too much coffee. It's food and drink and helps keep the men awake." "I'll remember."
"To-night?" "You betcha, little pardner, I'll be there." "I'm dressed silly in bare feet and sandals and what they call a smock. You won't mind that, will you?" "You'll look good to me, no matter what you wear, little Miss Colorado," he told her with his warm, big brother's smile. "You're good," the girl said simply. "I knew that on the train even when I when I was mean to you."
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