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I I just feel bad, that's all," replied Moore. "Ahuh! So it seems. Well, tell me about it?" "Pard, my father has forgiven me." "The old son-of-a-gun! Good! What for? You never told me you'd done anythin'." "I know but I did do a lot. I was sixteen then. We quarreled. And I ran off up here to punch cows. But after a while I wrote home to mother and my sister.
But then Maurice did not see that there was anything improbable in the idea, since the thief who had visited them had rowed down river, and just as likely as not had his home at Morehead. "Well, come along, pard. Even if it is our old acquaintance, he'd better think twice before trying to hold us up," he remarked, giving a pull at the other's sleeve. "But he knows what we've got along.
The cowboy radiated some dominating force, but the chill in his voice was terrible. It meant that life was nothing to him nor death. What was the U. P. R. to him, or its directors, or its commissioners, or the law? There was no law in that wild camp but the law in his hands. And he knew it. "Did you say my pard lied?" he repeated. Allison Lee struggled and choked over a halting, "No."
"Well, old-timer, you look fagged out," called out the cowboy, cheerily. "Throw off your boots, wash up, and come and get it!" "Pard Wils, I'm not reboundin' as natural as I'd like. I reckon I've lived some years before I got here, an' a lifetime since." "Wade, you have a queer look, lately," observed Moore, shaking his head solemnly.
"Wake up, you lazy son-of-a-gun!" shouted Neale. Larry opened his eyes. "Wal, what's wrong? Is it last night or to-morrow?" "Larry, I'm off. Got charge of a big job." "Is thet all?" drawled Larry, sleepily. "Why, shore I always knowed you'd be chief engineer some day." "Pard sit up," said Neale, unsteadily.
And here hard luck has marooned us on Sturgeon Island with a bunch of desperate smugglers, who look on us as soldiers sent out by the Government to gather them in. If ever we were up against it hard, we sure are right now, Pard Thad."
"Red SAW Brick amongst the gang. He RECOGNIZED him. Well, Red and his other pard gets on horses they cuts loose, and comes like lightning, and gets here, and tells the story and maybe you think this community ain't a-rearing and a-charging and a-sniffing for blood! There'd be more excitement against Brick Willock if there was more community, but such as they is, is concentrated."
A silence followed, for Malcolm's attempt had not had the result he anticipated: he had thought only to make his grandfather laugh. Presently the old man resumed, in the kindest voice: "And tere's another thing, Malcolm, tat's much wanting to you: you'll never pe a man not to speak of a pard like your cranfather if you'll not pe learning to play on ta bagpipes."
He glanced about uneasily and then glared defiance at Price. "It had to come, Joe," he asserted. "There wasn't any way out of it. What's more, I killed that greased pard of Eagen's, Gomez." "How so?" queried Price. "Well, I'll tell you, Joe, but I don't expect it to go any further. He said something about Laura Mallory an' a man named Doane, an' I didn't like it. I slapped him.
Besides, the appearance of the wet towel was a danger signal to Jean's conscience, and forbade any thought of saddling Pard and riding away from the Bar Nothing into her own dream world and the great outdoors.
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