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Well, after stowin' away his little jolt, he comes fussin' around among the boys, askin' which one of 'em is Mr. Robert McGraw. Of course he didn't get no information, an' wouldn't 'a got it if the boys had it.
"Rather spectacular removal that of our friend Hennage" Carey continued. "From what I learn he was a little slow on the draw." "O'Rourke beat him to it." "If I may judge by the single exhibition of your proficiency with a gun which I was privileged to observe, Mr. McGraw, the issue would have been different had you been in Hennage's boots." "Possibly.
Bob McGraw knew he could secure a judgment against his unfortunate client in any court of law in the country and the land was good for the judgment! Having advanced the cash to purchase the land for his clients, Bob McGraw would hold that deadly contract over their heads as security for the advance!
Is it because in the winter night the wind never sleeps in the gorge above the headquarters shack that despatchers talk yet of a wind that froze the wolf and the sheep and the herder to marble together? Is it because McGraw runs no more that switchmen tell of the run he made over Sweetgrass the night he sent a plough through eight hundred head of sheep in less than a tenth as many seconds?
Of course, McGraw, being to Carey's way of thinking an outlaw from justice, would not dare to appear to claim the lands, and if he did, T. Morgan Carey planned to have a hale and hearty gentleman in a blue uniform with brass buttons, waiting at the Land Office to receive him before he paid for the lands.
The breeze interrupts and obfuscates their words, but now and then half a sentence comes clearly. "Have you seen any American papers lately?" "Nothing but the Paris Herald if you call that a paper." "How are the Giants making out?" "... badly as usual ... rotten ... slump ... shake up...." "... John McGraw ... Connie Mack ... glass arm...." "... homesick ... give five dollars for...."
He passed a type-written sheet across the counter to her. Donna read it carefully. "The plot thickens. However, this is only added proof that my line of reasoning is correct. This line, 'I didn't have no business to do it in the first place, clinches the testimony. The Robert McGraw of my acquaintance never uses double negatives."
I was reckless, mad, for the first time in my life, filled with hate against my fellow-men. I rode a hundred yards before I heard the scout at my side shouting, "To the right, Captain, to the right." At the word I pulled on my rein, and we turned into the Plaza. The scout was McGraw, the Kansas cowboy, who had halted Aiken and myself the day we first met with the filibusters.
"Steele, Judson & McCabe, Joy Distributers; with J. Bayard there wieldin' the fairy wand. Why, say, I'd as quick think of askin' Scrappy McGraw to preside at a peace conference!" Mr. Judson's busy packin' away his papers in a document case; but he smiles vague over his shoulder. "Honest now," I goes on, "do you think our friend will make good as the head of the sunshine department?"
There were seven present, Ned Nestor and Jimmie McGraw, of the Wolf Patrol; George Tolford, Harry Stevens, Glen Howard, and Jack Bosworth, of the famous Black Bear Patrol; and Peter Fenton, of the Panther Patrol. They ranged in age from thirteen to seventeen, Jimmie being the youngest and Ned Nestor the oldest of the group.
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