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"That is Richard Clement, the sole owner of 'The Witch, a mine valued at three millions of dollars." This in itself was truly an epic. Sweetwater Springs was a village in a cañon, out of which rose two wonderful springs of water whose virtues were known throughout the land. The village was wedged in the cañon which ran to the mighty breast of Mogallon like a fold in a king's robe.
"But we never does hear what happens to Boggs that time over across the Mogallon Plateau; for when he's that far along, one of the niggers from the corral comes scurryin' up an' asks Texas Thompson does he lend his pinto pony an hour back to the party who's deef an' dumb. "'Which I shorely don't, says Texas. 'You don't aim to tell me none he's done got away with my pinto hoss?
"Got anything for me?" he shrieked at Bill. Bill leisurely turned off the switch, draped his long legs over the side of the car, and produced his makings. "Nothing, Jim. Expaicting of anything?" "Sent for a new grass rope. How's feed down Mogallon way?" "Fair. That a bronco you're riding?" "Just backed him three days ago." "Amount to anything?"
You can draw up to the layout of life, an' from the cradle to the grave, you'll not pick up no sleepers on Providence that a-way. Now, once, when I'm over across the Mogallon Plateau, I
One spring day a young man of good mental furnishing and very slender purse walked over the shoulder of Mount Mogallon and down the trail to Gold Creek. He walked because the stage fare seemed too high. Two years and four months later he was pointed out to strangers by the people of Sweetwater Springs.
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