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"'Fifty! says some one else. "'Hole on dah, sings out the ole nigger. 'I'se just 'bliged to tell you folks I'se pu'chasin' dis hyar mare fo' Miss Sally Goodloe! "The auctioneer looks at the guy who bids fifty. "'I withdraw that bid, says the guy. "'Sold to you for twenty dollars, Uncle Jake, says the auctioneer. 'Bring on number twelve!
Come snowfall hit'll git ter be right slavish journeyin' but I don't 'low ter tarry there long. I kain't noways be content away from ye." The thoughts that were occupying Dorothy were for the most part silent ones but at length she inquired: "Why don't ye bring her back with ye, ter dwell hyar with us her an' ther baby?" Thornton shook his head, but his heart warmed because she had asked.
"Look hyar, Injun! whether we fired symultainyously, or extraneously, or cattawampously, ain't the flappin' o' a beaver's tail to me; but I tuk sight on that bird; I hut that bird; and 'twar my bullet brought the thing down." "I think I must have hit it too," replied the Indian, modestly.
Miss Anne she went in de hospitals toreckly arfter ole missis died; an' jes' fo' Richmond fell she come home sick wid de fever. Yo' nuvver would 'a' knowed her fur de same ole Miss Anne. She wuz light ez a piece o' peth, an' so white, 'cep' her eyes an' her sorrel hyar, an' she kep' on gittin' whiter an' weaker. Judy she sut'n'y did nuss her faithful. But she nuvver got no betterment!
"Waal, jes keep that sayin' o' mine in yer head, an' tell him when he kems home. An' look a-hyar, ef enny mo' o' his stray shoats kem about hyar, I'll snip thar ears an' gin 'em my mark." The youth of the Purdee clan meditated on this for a moment. He could not remember that they had missed any shoats.
"I'd place heap mo' dependence in Eveliny ef she didn't hev this hyar way o' cryin' all the time. She 'lows she's glad she kem so glad she hev lef Abs'lom fur good an' all an' then she busts out a-cryin' agin. I ain't able ter argufy on sech." "Shucks! wimmen air always a-cryin', an' they don't mean nuthin' by it," exclaimed the old man, in the plenitude of his wisdom.
Mancha was trying to estimate what he should be paid for his work. "See hyar, I guess we ain't struck no deal yet. What do you propose to pay me?" The Mexican was sharp but he was no match for his employer. He fancied he saw a good deal over this night's work. "You played on paper, I know," said the money-lender, quietly. He was quite unmoved by the other's display of cunning.
"Florence, you jest hit the nail on the haid. Cowboys are all plumb flirts. I was wonderin' why them boys nooned hyar. This ain't no place to noon. Ain't no grazin' or wood wuth burnin' or nuthin'. Them boys jest held up, throwed the packs, an' waited fer us. It ain't so surprisin' fer Booly an' Ned they're young an' coltish but Nels there, why, he's old enough to be the paw of both you girls.
"There are two hundred men down there in the corner and in the woods," and he rapidly sketched the position. "It's all right then, I guess," the Elder decided. "They'll get along without me. Tell Morris I'm at my chores." Beginning his work again, he added, "I've something to do hyar." From the old man's manner Bancroft was convinced that solicitation would be a waste of time.
"Ef him an' me fell out," admitted Bas with wily encouragement of her confessed belief, "right like others would mix inter hit." "But ef I kills ye hit won't start no war," she retorted. "A woman's got a right ter defend herself, even hyar." "Dorothy, I've done told ye I jest lost my head in a swivet of wrath. Ye're jedgin' me by one minute of frenzy and lookin' over a lifetime of trustiness."
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