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"Well, you better not have anything like shooting going on, fer I've got some friends back here a little way waiting to joy ride back with me when my work's over. They might get funny if they heard a gun and come too soon." "You little devil, you! I mighta known you'd give it away !" he began, but he lowered the gun perceptibly. "Every little skunk like you is yella yella as the devil "
"By der goodness o'God I done lived ter waltz on der citadel green and march down a ile o' soldiers in blue, in der arms o' me husban', and over me haid de bay'nets shined." "I done lived up all my days and some o' dem whut mighta b'longed ter somebody else is dey'd done right in der sight o' God." "How I know I so old?" "I got documents ter prove it."
Go after 'em. He hasn't lost any blood. No serious body wound. A crack on the conk. It mighta killed him. It didn't. He didn't wabble an' fall down. So my dope is right. Drop in in a few days an' I'll show yuh." Miss Frances held out her hand. "You've handled men," she said, with reluctant admiration. "Oh, boy! millions of 'em, an' each guy different. Believe me! Make 'em wanta."
"He mighta busted 'er pullin' through that sand hollow. She was wired up pretty good, though, and there was more wire in the rig. I don't know of anything else that'd be liable to happen, unless " "Unless what?" Lorraine prompted sharply. "There's too much that isn't talked about, on this ranch. What else could happen?" Sorry edged away from her.
It had been a humiliating experience. The old woman's vulgarity; Macomber's stolid, iron hand clearing the air, like brushing trash from his doorstep; the consciousness of prying eyes at that upstairs window! "I've been a feeble cuckoo," he thought. "Mighta supposed two years in the army would have taught me better'n that.
Of course he ought to have told you before he went, but he wouldn't likely have expected to stay long, and then boys don't think. They don't realize how hard it is not to understand !" "Thas'so, Miss Marilyn," sniffed Miss Saxon, "He don't hardly ever think. But he mighta phomed." "Well, it isn't likely they have phones on the mountain, and you haven't any, have you? How could he?"
Dragging the heavy coach over sagebrush hummocks and through sand had winded them so that they were almost ready to quit when they turned down the main street. "If we'd 'a' hit that culvert we mighta killed off half our dudes. That woulda been what I call notorious hard luck," Pinkey had just observed, when Wallie commenced to whip the horses to a run once more. "What you doin' that for?"
"His size en power mighta skeered Hulls en made him quit." Logan laughed as he pictured the midget in a contest with shaggy Hulls Barrow. "Maybe we could deal with Hulls," he said, "if we could get him away from the woman. If your young friend has a way with women, could lure Maizie out of hearing for a few moments, we could sure use him."
"Course," Santry went on, in mock solicitude, "if I'd thought I mighta put a bit of sugar on that there gag, to remind you of your mammy like, but it ain't no great matter. You can put a double dose in your cawfee when you git loose." "Come on, Bill!" Wade commanded. "So long, Sheruff," Santry chuckled.
"With a reppermand," put in Gregory. "Mose, you shut your head!" said the constable. Then he turned again to the prisoner. "I mighta let yer off, but now I'm goin' to keep yer right here in the lockup, an' consider the case tomorrer mornin'. Take him below, Justin." Justin was the fat man, with the fan-like ears. He stepped forward. "Number six?" he asked the constable. "Yup.
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