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The wagons and teams of Jerkline Jo's freight outfit were covered with flags, and Jo's proud skinners paraded the streets, the wagons loaded with cheering townspeople. Carried on the shoulders of men, the bride and groom were escorted to the Palace Dance Hall, where a banquet had been prepared, over which presided Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet.
Since, then, a mustang is worthless vermin, and a black mustang ten times worse than worthless, Jo's pard "didn't see no sense in Jo's wantin' to corral the yearling," as he now seemed intent on doing. But Jo got no chance to try that year. He was only a cow-puncher on $25 a month, and tied to hours. Like most of the boys, he always looked forward to having a ranch and an outfit of his own.
"Oh, where are you going?" she cried, for his face frightened her. "To the devil!" was the consoling answer. For a minute Jo's heart stood still, as he swung himself down the bank toward the river, but it takes much folly, sin or misery to send a young man to a violent death, and Laurie was not one of the weak sort who are conquered by a single failure.
The figure in the snow stumbled along the sidewalk, clinging to the iron railings. When he reached the steps of Aunt Jo's house he slipped down upon the second step and seemed unable to get up again. His body sagged against the iron railing post, and soon the snow began to heap on him and about him. "Oh!" gasped Margy. "He is a reg'lar snowman." "He's a black snowman," said Mun Bun.
She wondered still more if her sister really guessed the hard truth, and what thoughts were passing through her mind during the long hours when she lay on the warm rocks with her head in Jo's lap, while the winds blew healthfully over her and the sea made music at her feet. One day Beth told her.
Mike was not to be found, but the missing horse was discovered by a small boy in the dry river-bed apparently in search of water. Jan retired to his bedroom to find that in his absence two more strangers had burst in, to Jo's indignation. He pushed them out and locked the door.
"Maybe we'll find a treasure," suggested Russ. "What treasure?" asked George. "Oh, before we came down here, when we were at our Aunt Jo's in Boston," Russ explained, "we knew a boy named Sammie Brown. His father dug up some treasure on a desert island once. We thought maybe we could dig up some here." "But we didn't not yet," added Laddie. "And I don't guess we ever will," said Russ.
"Oh, I don't want it!" she cried involuntarily, shrinking away from us, "I don't want it." Jo's mouth fell open. "Then why in the world " The little freshman fairly ran to the alleyway leading to her room. Jo turned blankly to us. "Then why in the world did she write the story and send it in?"
Now we knew why the police wore long-skirted coats; but what a disappointment the one must have had who lifted Jo's coat and skirt. Got off again in good time the next morning. Cutting and three others stayed behind to look after the police. Lucky they did, because one of the horses wore out, and the police would have left it on the road, pack and all.
"Flight! over the north cliff!" echoed Mrs Stuart in surprise. "Ay, and a fearful plunge he had." Here Henry detailed poor Jo's misadventure. "And now," said he, when he had finished, "I must lock his door and keep him in.
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