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"My Lord!" answered Brad, very violently for him, the ever-tolerant. "No! I'm goin' to let him go. Look at that!" And while the Crane boy, unconcerned, yet puzzled, gave his full attention to the bear, Brad passed on. There was a wolf, I remember, darting about his cage, slinking, furtive, ever on a futile prowl.
Olin Brad, and was in his best Macaulay style, began somewhat humorously by alluding to the curious interest of the public in ancient history, citing Mr. Froude and Mr. Carlyle, and the legend of Casper Hauser.
This intentness and self-mastery lent a sort of majesty to his rough-hewn face. "Let 'em out a little, Brad," said Councill. "We're a little late." Behind them came teams, before them were teams, along every lane of the beautiful upland prairie, teams were rolling rapidly, all toward the south.
"Christine's father a convict!" groaned David. "As I said before, he's out. It may interest you to know that I spent a year's vacation up there in '78. I needed the rest, old chap. Brad came in shortly after I got settled. He had been in Chicago for two years, boning his friends and living like a gutter-snipe. We spent most of our evenings at Sing Sing on the same piazza.
"Don't you remember that old Brad Dunham wrote to New York one spring and asked a commission man if he would take a million frogs' legs? Commission man wrote that he'd take a hundred pairs; and the best old Brad could do, after wading in the swamp back of his house all day, was to get a dozen. Wrote to the commission man that he'd been estimating his frogs by sound and thought he had a million.
Already he could see that his partner was writhing on the ground, held down by an unknown number of strangers. In his eyes it might be these advancing figures each and every one must be a deputy sheriff, eager to have a hand in his arrest. So terror makes cowards of the best of men; and Brad turned to flee. "Surrender!" shouted a voice behind him.
Oh, you've sure earned yore laugh." If hatred could have killed with a look Bob would have been a dead man. "You blew up the dam," charged Doble. "Me! Why, it ain't my dam. Didn't Brad give you orders to open the sluices to make you a swimmin' hole?" The searchers began to straggle in, bringing with them a sadly drenched and battered lot of gunmen.
"Nothin' of the kind," denied Stearns, indignation in his voice. "I done brought up that boy by hand learned him all he knows about ridin' and ropin'. He'll do to take along." "Hmp! He always fooled you, Brad. Different here. I'm aimin' to give him the wallopin' of his life when I meet up with him. And that'll be soon, if he's up there in the rocks.
Brad said he liked it, because it looked well and did not mean anything; he liked all such titles, the "Pious Pirate," the "Lucid Lunatic," the "Sympathetic Siren," the "Guileless Girl," and so on.
After a couple of years they went to England and the Continent, where Brad rode for several seasons very successful. When Christine was seven, he insisted that she should work with 'im in the ring. He 'ad 'is way. They made a sensation with Van Slye's show and stuck to 'im for six years straight, allus drawing good pay.