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"Yes, she's an odd one. Can ride like the wind, shoot like a sharp-shooter, and swear like a trooper. Is here, there and everywhere, seemingly all at one time. Owns this coop and two or three other lots in Deadwood; a herding ranch at Laramie, an interest in a paying placer claim near Elizabeth City, and the Lord only knows how much more." "But it is not a woman?" "Reckon 'tain't nothin' else."

Of these less than 12,000 can be regarded as available for any duty directly connected with the siege, and now every day saw the command growing smaller in numbers, as the men fell under the fire of the sharp-shooter, or succumbed to the deadly climate, or gave out exhausted by incessant labor and privation.

But when he reached the cottage, the sharp-shooter fired off his piece, and then the Man o' the Hill dared not go into the house, for he thought it was thunder. So he set off home again as fast as he could lay legs to the ground; but what do you think, just as he got to the trap-door, the sun rose and the Man o' the Hill burst.

"And get himself picked off by a sharp-shooter," thought John Gayther, but he did not interrupt.

And that's the way life treats us, too. I've been practising on the gophers with my new gun, and with Dinky-Dunk's .22 rifle. A gopher is only a little bigger than a chipmunk, and usually pokes nothing more than his head out of his hole, so when I got thirteen out of fifteen shots I began to feel that I was a sharp-shooter.

Strange to say, on the high river bluff beyond the town, amid the guns of the fort, also with field glass in hand anxiously watching the confederates, stood the federal general. A sharp-shooter in either line could have killed the commanding general in the other. And now that prophesying silence which always seems to precede a battle was afloat in the air.

Bean had been instantly killed by a sharp-shooter on the 29th of May; the regiment went into action on the 14th of June 220 strong, commanded by Captain Webster P. Moore; of these, 140 fell, or 63 per cent. In the first assault, however, it had fared better, its losses numbering but 60.

The gaunt sharp-shooter, pacing the embankment with Winchester in hand to shoot any burrowing confederate of the river, a rat, or mole, is a real and not an imaginary figure. And the battles that have been fought along its course are as play by the side of those yet to be waged before it is subdued by man.

He had almost reached it when the sharp-shooter discovered him, and the men knew that Little Darby had underestimated the quickness of his hand and aim; for at the same moment the figure of the man behind the rock appeared for a second as he sprang erect; there was a puff of white and Little Darby stopped and staggered and sank to his knees.

The tall man turned to his pal leaning on his rifle. "No," answered the short sharp-shooter; "he's the only one. It was a good afternoon's sport very good. We saw 'e'd got no rifle, and was in a tight clove-'itch, so we took the job on right there an' finished four of 'em; but it took some creepin' and crawlin'." "Well, we'll be quittin' this now," said the tall one.