United States or Tajikistan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


The man at the back door was shouting something, his gun thrust through the hole. Dalton made a cross-reach with his left hand for Macdonald's revolver. On the other side the cowboy was watching his comrade's gun pointing through the kitchen door; Macdonald could see the whites of his eyes as he turned them. "Don't shoot in here! we've got 'em," he called.

It was possible to aggravate to him the horrors of that event tenfold, and to increase inconceivably the torture of his already agonised mind and poor M'Intyre found it was so. We leave it to the reader to conceive what were his feelings, when he was informed that he was to be one of the firing-party one of his comrade's executioners!

Yet had the captain and his men known the cause of all this had they been aware that that flash, half-tipsy cad of a fellow who, with half a dozen of his "pals," was watching the match with a critical air, there at the ropes was the landlord of the Cockchafer himself, the holder of Loman's "little bill" for 30 pounds, they would perhaps have understood and forgiven their comrade's clumsiness.

The musician, his silent violin under his chin, leaned over his comrade's shoulder. The hunter stood still, expectant.

The change in her utterance and the resumption of her softer Spanish accent seemed to have come with her confidences, and Low took leave of her before their sylvan cabin with a comrade's heartiness, and a complete forgetfulness that her voice had ever irritated him. When he returned that afternoon he was startled to find the cabin empty.

Cullen, having secured his own tumbler, came by his comrade's side. 'Deal o' fine talk to wind up with, he remarked tentatively. 'He means what he says, returned the other gravely. 'Oh yes, Mr. Cullen hastened to admit. 'Mutimer means what he says! Only the way of saying it, I meant I've got a bit of a sore throat. 'So have I. After that there hot room.

In the old times a funeral was regarded in the Swan Creek country as a kind of solemn festivity. In those days, for the most part, men died in their boots and were planted with much honor and loyal libation. There was often neither shroud nor coffin, and in the Far West many a poor fellow lies as he fell, wrapped in his own or his comrade's blanket.

He appeared, full of audacity, riding his high horse, raising his flat-nosed, bull-dog face toward the "gallery gods," and, in his voice capable of making Jericho's wall fall or raising Jehoshaphat's dead, he dashed off in one effort, but with intelligence and heroic feeling, his comrade's poem. The effect was prodigious.

And these are my boys still always my boys. From the highest places of the land they turn to give me a comrade's greeting. I glory in the renown of these, but just as dear and precious to me is the warm grasp of the toil-hardened hand and the smile which beams upon me from the rugged face of the very humblest of "the boys who wore the gray."

Whatever alleviating circumstances there were to excuse the reckless victim of his comrade's joke, the fact remained that a man who could fall victim to a joke like that was not the companion for his daughter's life; she who had been shielded and guarded at every possible point, and loved as the very apple of his eye.