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"And you," exclaimed the girl, with her eyes flashing fire, "you sprang down from your horse, and chastised him, till he whined like a beaten hound, though he was twice as big as you were; and then you bound up the kid’s wound, and wiped away the tears—innocent tears they were—of the little girl, and parted her hair, and kissed her on the forehead.
Old Man is always on lookout for a good rider. Soon as we see how Johnny’s doin’, we’ll head south. I already sent Greyfeather back to tell the Old Man th’ kid’s hurt an’ up here. Reese, what’d you think ’bout Bayliss? That he’ll try to take over runnin’ the town?" "Might just," the gambler replied. "Could he do it?" "I hardly think so. What he’s really out for is Hunt’s hide.
An’ he’d answer th’ lead rein. ’Course we don’t know what happened to him in Texas after th’ big retreat th’ Rebs made outta here. Could be he larned a lot what was no good. Now he sops up whisky when he hits town an’ picks fights, like he didn’t git his belly full of that in th’ war. You can’t never tell how a kid’s gonna turn out." "Hey! Mister Kirby, you better git in here!"
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