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"Fresno, it's gold you want," she affirmed, rather than asked. "Sure. But no small stake like thet'd be my choice ag'in' you," he leered, jerking a thumb back at his companions. "You remember Horn?" went on Allie. "Horn! The miner who made thet big strike out near Sacramento?" "Yes, that's who I mean," replied Allie, hurriedly. "We we left California in his caravan.
In point of fact the Colonel did not think that he had. "Nor anything about his being killed over at Fresno?" said the stranger, with a desponding implication that the interview after all was a failure. "If er if you could er give me a hint or two," suggested the Colonel blandly. "There wasn't much," said the stranger, "if you don't remember."
Her spirit sank, and then leaped. It whispered that looks and words and touches could only hurt and shame her for this hour of her evil plight. They must rouse her resistance and cunning wit. It was a fact that she was helpless for the present. But she still lived, and her love was infinite. Fresno was there, throwing dice with two soldiers.
"A tear, a sigh, a last 'Good-bye'-The pardon came too late." "Here, what are you singing about?" angrily protested Speed, as he rounded into view. "Oh, it's Mr. Speed!" "Good-morning!" chorused Helen and the chaperon. "Welcome to our city!" Fresno greeted. Glass tottered to the steps. "Them songs," he puffed, "is bad for a man when he's trainin'; they get him all worked up."
"No, you won't take her to Neale!" cried Stanton. The cowboy stepped down slowly, guardedly, but he kept on. Allie saw men run out of the crowded dance-hall into the open space behind Stanton. Dark, hateful, well-remembered faces of Fresno Mull Black! Allie pressed the cowboy's arm to warn him, and he, letting go of her, appeared to motion her behind him. "Stanton!
Keap, who is looking after us a bit while mother is away. Roberta, may I present Mr. Covington's friend, and ask you to be good to him?" "Don't forget me," said Fresno, pushing into the light. "Mr. Berkeley Fresno, of Leland Stanford University." "Hello, Frez!" Speed thrust out his hand warmly. Not so the Californian. He replied, with hauteur: "Fresno!
Her new home had become so dear to her at that moment. Mrs. Allen as usual began to cry. Polly soon followed her example. There were tears even in the of some of the punchers, although they blinked vigorously to keep them back. When she repeated the chorus, Sage-brush said to Fresno: "Ain't that great?"
Polly's youth, good nature, and ability to take care of herself made her a favorite on the ranch. She had no need of defenders, but if an occasion should arise that Polly required a knight, there were a score of guns at her service at an hour's notice. "Looks like a picture from a book," said Fresno, hoping to win back the ground he had lost by Sage-brush's openly expressed admiration.
She seized each of the boys by the hand and shook it heartily. "Would you like to have another selection?" asked Fresno, relieving the tension of the situation. "No!" shouted the punchers unanimously. Fresno looked very much crestfallen, since he considered that he had made a deep impression by his first effort. "Mrs. Payson's goin' to hit us out a tune," announced Sage-brush.
There can be little doubt the coroner's jury of Fresno would have returned a verdict of "death from alcoholism," as the result of their inquest into the cause of Concho's death, had not Dr. Guild fought nobly in support of the law and his own convictions. A majority of the jury objected to there being any inquest at all.
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