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He swore he had scarlet fever because his face burnt so red, I guess, an' when I hollered that scarlet fever was contagious an' he must be put away somewhere, he up an' says he guessed it wasn't that. But he was sure awful sick an' needed to loaf around an' be amused. Why, even Nels doesn't want to work these days.

In the same second, the Arab, still on his hind legs, made a teetering plunge back, to dodge the second drive of the beast, and Ian Deal fell, head-long on the far side, his narrow boot locked in the steel stirrup. Skag spoke again. It was to Kala Khan this time. Nels' smashing drive at the throat had carried the tusker from under the Arab's feet.

"You're the best of them all to-day." He laughed. Nels looked up at him in a bored way, but he still held. Skag went back to Carlin. Ian Deal had partly risen. The American did not catch his eye, and now Kala Khan stood between them, Carlin still holding the rein. Skag's hand rested upon the wet trembling withers, where the saddle had covered. There was a blue glisten to the moisture.

"I reckon you know the hoss thet made them?" "Gene Stewart's roan, or I'm a son-of-a-gun!" exclaimed Stillwell, and he dropped heavily to his knees and began to scrutinize the tracks. "My eyes are sure pore; but, Nels, they ain't fresh." "I reckon them tracks was made early yesterday mornin'." "Wal, what if they was?" Stillwell looked at his cowboy.

Swelling up of the puffy form, and reddening ripples of the broad face heralded it, it began with a contagious cackle, it deepened into a flabby guffaw, and after all the others roundabout had finished their cachinnatory tribute it wound up with what was between a roar and the lazy drone of a bagpipe. It now rewarded Nels Hathaway's irony, and the rest of the loungers joined in.

"They live because they have not met a cheetah." "How does Nels do it?" "My master must look upon that, to understand. I have seen, but I cannot show it. It " and a rare smile lighted the dark shadows of Bhanah's face, "is soon." "I've heard the Indian princes use them for hunting." "Yes, Sahib, many Indian princes keep hunting cheetahs as English Sahibs keep hunting horses.

"Shut up the stove, Nels." Charlie blew out the light and opened the door. "There, hang it!" he exclaimed, turning back. "I forgot the note. Ought to be in ink, I suppose. Well, never mind now; we won't put on any style about it." He took down a pencil from the shelf, and, extracting a bit of wrapping paper from a bundle behind the wood-box, wrote the note by the light of the lantern.

Again he stooped quickly and touched the man's feet. He had done it once before to Skag's acute discomfort. "What's the meaning of that?" "That a man's life is in thy breath, my Master." "Bhanah, I'll find out how to answer you." Then Bhanah laughed a low exultant chuckle, while he finished binding Nels' legs with a part of his own turban.

"But I don't want to buy a place that has a bad name. Will you tell me what you think is the matter with it?" Nels glanced about him, and standing a little closer to Marsh, said in a lowered, voice, "Aye tenk bad men live dere." "But," protested Marsh, "I thought the house was closed, and had only a caretaker, or someone like that?" "No caretaker," answered Nels. "Tree four five men.

"Wal, mebbe you an' the boys are right. I believe you are. Nels, there ain't no doubt on earth about who was ridin' Stewart's hoss?" "Thet's as plain as the hoss's tracks." "Wal, it's all amazin' strange. It beats me. I wish the boys would ease up on drinkin'. I was pretty fond of Danny an' Gene. I'm afraid Gene's done fer, sure.