United States or Gabon ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The next shot would have been the bride's had not Carson, a sheepman, possessed a mind with triggers somewhat well oiled and in repair. The guns of the wedding party had been hung, in their belts, upon nails in the wall when they sat at table, as a concession to good taste. But Carson, with great promptness, hurled his plate of roast venison and frijoles at McRoy, spoiling his aim.
How did the Covenanters esteem the Bible? What kind of inspiration did they ascribe to the Bible? What second inspiration needed to understand it? What was the Bible to these sufferers? Describe their devotion to the Word of God; the experience of McRoy; Andrew Hislop; Arthur Inglis. How ought we to esteem the Bible?
"It's my papa," announced Billy Sampson, aged six. "I've seen him wear 'em before." Berkly, a sheepman, an old friend of Lane, stopped Rosita as she was passing by him on the gallery, where he was sitting smoking. "Well, Mrs. Lane," said he, "I suppose by this Christmas you've gotten over being afraid of that fellow McRoy, haven't you? Madison and I have talked about it, you know."
McRoy was on his horse and away, shouting back curses and threats as he galloped into the concealing chaparral. That night was the birthnight of the Frio Kid. He became the "bad man" of that portion of the State. The rejection of his suit by Miss McMullen turned him to a dangerous man.
One thinks the best way is to go over to Canady and establish a Irish Republic there, kindly permittin the Canadians to pay the expenses of that sweet Boon; and the other wants to sail direck for Dublin Bay, where young McRoy and his fair young bride went down and was drownded, accordin to a ballad I onct heard. But there's one pint on which both sides agree that's the Funs.
One was Madison Lane, and the other was the Frio Kid. But at that time they did not call him the Frio Kid, for he had not earned the honours of special nomenclature. His name was simply Johnny McRoy. It must not be supposed that these two were the sum of the agreeable Rosita's admirers. The bronchos of a dozen others champed their bits at the long hitching rack of the Sundown Ranch.
The second bullet, then, only shattered the white petals of a Spanish dagger flower suspended two feet above Rosita's head. The guests spurned their chairs and jumped for their weapons. It was considered an improper act to shoot the bride and groom at a wedding. In about six seconds there were twenty or so bullets due to be whizzing in the direction of Mr. McRoy.
Many were the sheeps'-eyes that were cast in those savannas that did not belong to the flocks of Dan McMullen. But of all the cavaliers, Madison Lane and Johnny McRoy galloped far ahead, wherefore they are to be chronicled. Madison Lane, a young cattleman from the Nueces country, won the race. He and Rosita were married one Christmas day.
But while the wedding feast was at its liveliest there descended upon it Johnny McRoy, bitten by jealousy, like one possessed. "I'll give you a Christmas present," he yelled, shrilly, at the door, with his .45 in his hand. Even then he had some reputation as an offhand shot. His first bullet cut a neat underbit in Madison Lane's right ear. The barrel of his gun moved an inch.
Word Of The Day