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If I'd been wise to that bum being soused he'd have gone out, if he broke his lousy neck." "I'm not dead sure he was soused," said Kars. The cold tone of his voice again brought Pap's eyes to his face. "What d'you guess?" he demanded roughly. "He wasn't a miner, and he wasn't soused. I guess he was a 'gunman." "What d'you mean?" "Just what I said.
"Well, then, Curly," said Franklin, again addressing himself to his witness, "please tell us how long you have known this prisoner." "Ever since we was kids together. He used to be a mozo on my pap's ranch, over in San Saba County." "Did you ever know him to receive any injury, any blow about the head?" "Well, onct ole Hank Swartzman swatted him over the head with a swingletree.
Beyond, the bleak, brown hills were clothed in an imperial livery of purple. The sky was amber and rose. But Ajax, like Gallio, cared for none of these things. He was cursing his unruly tongue. As we neared the big, empty barn, he turned in his saddle. "Look here," said he, "we'll nip up to Pap's after supper. I shall ask him to help us. I shall ask for a cheque."
Again, she nodded in silent assent, and the boy began speaking in a slow, careful voice, which gradually mounted into tense emotion. "Sally, thet thar gun was my pap's. When he lay a-dyin', he gave hit ter me, an' he gave me a job ter do with hit. When I was a little feller, I used ter set up 'most all day, polishin' thet gun an' gittin' hit ready.
"It's a heap easier to have a feller to 'arn your money fur you nor it is to 'arn it yourself," thought Dan. "Here's Dave a toilin' an' a slavin' fur them hundred an' fifty dollars, an' when he gets 'em, they'll go plump into pap's pocket an' mine, an' he'll never see no good of 'em at all. I'll have ten dollars in my pocket this very night.
It was a repeating Winchester, carrying a long steel-jacketed bullet of special caliber, but it was of a pattern fifteen years old, and fitted with target sights. "That gun," Samson explained, in a lowered and reverent voice, "was my pap's. I reckon there hain't enough money in the world ter buy hit off en me."
It's yo' on'y chance; fur onct Marse Hi gits you 'way f'um heah, it'll be many a long day foh you sees yo' sweetheart ag'in. I tell you yo' pap's thet desprut dar's no tellin' whut he woan do teh keep you an' yo' sweetheart 'part. So doan let me heah no 'jections, but jes' listen to me.
And you do, you pore old Pap, so you must take it." Pap took the money in silence. George Leadham had turned aside, unable to speak. I stood behind the door, out of sight. Sissy stared anxiously at Pap. "Popsy said you wouldn't come, but I knew you would," she sighed. "Good-bye, you pore old Pap." She closed her eyes, but she held Pap's hand.
You go back and watch that long, will you?" "I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night for a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night." "That's all right. Now, where you going to sleep?" "In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man, Uncle Jake.
It's the the Gentlemen, if you'll only pull ahead, and let me heave you the headline, you won't have to come a-near the raft please do." "Set her back, John, set her back!" says one. They backed water. "Keep away, boy keep to looard. Confound it, I just expect the wind has blowed it to us. Your pap's got the small-pox, and you know it precious well. Why didn't you come out and say so?
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