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"'Cause they's no thoroughbred stock around Sanborn. If it's the one I'm thinkin' about, it was left there by a friend of mine." "Oh I see! I remember, now. Sanborn is where you er took the train for El Paso?" "We left our hosses there same as the paper said." "H-mm! Well, I suppose the horse is to be sold for charges. Sheriff's sale, I understand." "Oh, you're safe in buyin' him all right.
"Oh, I don't know, Sergeant" responded Redmond deprecatingly, "of course I've been around teams some down East, on the old man's farm. . . I don't know that I can claim to be a real teamster as you judge them in the Force." "H-mm!" grunted Slavin again, "ye seem tu have th' makin's anyway." He expectorated musingly. "Wan time down at Coutts 'twas a young feller was sint tu me for tu dhrive.
Far to the right-hand, more than a mile away, stretched the first of the shelving benches, where the high ground sloped away in irregular jumps, as it were, to the river. "Best ye shtay fwhere ye all are," cautioned the sergeant, "'till I size up th' lay av things a bit. I du not want th' thracks fouled up. H-mm! let's see now!" He remained in deep, thoughtful silence a space.
"H-mm!" ejaculated Yorke, "seems to me I've got a hazy recollection of meeting up with that fellow before somewhere. In a hotel in High River, I think it was. Beggar was yarning about Cuba, I remember." "Bet it was hazy all right," was Redmond's sarcastic rejoiner, "like most of your bar-room recollections, Yorkey." He gave vent to a snorting chuckle. "That 'D'you know?
George, burrowing around in the snow unearthed a big stone, with which he proceeded to tap the team's shoes all round until the huge snow-clogs fell out. In silence the two men hooked up again and were soon on their way. "H-mm!" grunted the big Irishman at last, eyeing his subordinate with a sidelong glance of approval, "h-mm! teamster?"
"H-mm!" grunted Slavin, summing up the situation with native simplicity, "That's ut, eh? but, for all ye have th' spache an' manners av a ginthleman ranker somehow somehow I misdoubt ye're a way-back waster like Misther Yorkey here!" That hardened "ginthleman," absently sipping his coffee, flung a faintly-derisive, patient smile at his accuser.
'H-mm! mighty quare! sez me father, 'I wonder fwhat's happened tu th' pore ould ginthleman? 'Let us go luk for um? sez Tim, wid blood in his oi, ''tis may be he's on'y shtoppin' tu take another dhrink out av th' jug. "So, up th' road they goes a piece, till they comes tu a bog at th' side av ut.
"There wasn't much mischief that youngster and a neighbor of his, young Ted Holiday, didn't get into. Maybe that is why he is such a success with the black sheep," he added with a nod in the direction in which the khaki-clad lads had gone. "H-mm," observed Mr. Cressy. "I am rather glad to hear all this. You see it happens that I came to Dunbury to offer Philip Lambert a position.
"G d d n!" he spat out to Yorke, from between clenched teeth, "ther' goes another forlorn hope. 'Tis no manner av use worryin' tho' let's go get that jury empannelled!" He uttered a snorting chuckle as a thought seemed to strike him. "H-mm! Gully must be getthin' tindher-hearthed! Th' last vag we had up behfure him he sint um down for sixty days."
We all know what Johnny told him; we have heard him state his views on the subject. "H-mm. And how long do you expect it will take to pay me for the horses?" Johnny hesitated before he plunged but when he did he went deep enough in all conscience. "With any kind of luck I expect to be square with you in a year at the latest." "A year. H-mm!
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