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"Hold on, Frances! Ye better listen to me a minute!" shouted the ex-cowboy behind her. She gave him no attention. Molly sprang ahead and she met Pratt not far from the wagon. He stopped abruptly, as did the girl of the ranges. Ratty M'Gill brought his own mount to a sudden halt within a few yards. "Hello!" exclaimed Pratt. "What's the matter, Frances?" "Why, Pratt!

The two bosuns are in fear of their lives with this clique, which is growing; for Steve Roberts, the ex-cowboy, and the white-slaver, Arthur Deacon, have been admitted to it. I am the only one aft who possesses this information, and I confess I don't know what to do with it. I know that Mr. Pike would tell me to mind my own business. Mr. Mellaire is out of the question.

"You might do this thing ninety-nine times without paying for it, and the hundredth time something would turn up to slow or to stop the leading train, and there you are." "Sure!" said the ex-cowboy, quite heartily. "Now, if there should happen to be " The sentence was never finished.

Here in the Yosemite Valley he could teach and show her much that she might have missed but for him, and his similes showed habits of thought with which a few weeks ago she would not have credited the ex-cowboy.

They climbed aboard, and when they had found a seat in the smoker the chief of construction spoke to the ex-cowboy as to a friend. "I hope Adams has knocked out a good day's work for us," he said.

At the head of the table sat the ex-cowboy and ex-pugilist, Stormy German, his face usually, and now, reddened with liquor square-shouldered, square-faced and squat; a man harsh-voiced and terse, of iron endurance and with the stubbornness of a mule; next him sat Yankee Robinson, thin-faced and wearing a weatherbeaten yellow beard.

Was Tom, the ex-cowboy, on guard at the radio plant, a traitor? Jack could not believe it. Footsteps were approaching from around the corner. Jack looked around wildly. There was no shelter near enough to which to flee. He whipped out his automatic, flung himself down alongside the wall, and waited. Two men appeared, but instead of rounding the corner they moved straight ahead.

Say, he's a holy terror, ain't he?" "He doesn't mean to let me build my railroad if he can help it." The ex-cowboy found his sack of chip tobacco and dexterously rolled a cigarette in a bit of brown wrapping-paper. "If that's the game, Mr. Sheeny Mike, or his backers, will be most likely to play it to a finish, don't you guess?" "How?" "By havin' a po-liceman layin' for you at the train."

The ex-cowboy was so enraged at Collins for the insinuations he had cast upon him that he pushed up to where he lay and would have assaulted him if Ned had not interposed. "Let him alone," the boy said. "We'll leave the law to make payment in his case. Are you going to tell us where the tent is, Collins?" he added, turning to the angry captive.

The ex-cowboy grinned. "Bet your life I will. I ain't lovin' that old b'iler-buster in the private car none too hard." And he went in to get the passes. "What's up?" queried Adams, forgetting his drawl for once in a way. "An arrest trumped-up charge of trespass on that mining claim up yonder. But I've got to go to Carbonate to answer the charge and give bonds, just the same." "Any instructions?"