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Barbee lighted his cigarette, his hands steady, but his face looking terribly serious in the brief-lived light shed upon it. "I heard you shootin'," said Barbee. "I rode this way, on the jump. I was only about a mile up the valley; maybe a shade less. He had his horse close an' was on him an' poundin' leather lively to get out. We come pretty close to runnin' into each other.
"What you goin' to do, Pete?" "Me? Why, I'm goin' to drift as soon as I can git a saddle on Blue. Cotton he seen the shootin' but that don't do me no good. He'll swear that I pulled first. He'd say 'most anything he was too scared to know what come off. Gary's hand was on his gun when I let him have it twict." Andy noticed then Pete's torn sleeve. "I reckon that's right. Look at that!"
"He'd got into our camp and was fightin' on our side when it happened," Rex replied. "Some of them shot at him, then?" I insisted. "No, I beat him up with the butt of my gun for shootin' you," Rex said, lazily. "At me! Why don't you tell Jondo?" "I tried to," Rex answered, "but I can't make him see it that way.
And so on, on, in the gray dusk of the evening, the boat kept sailing from one end of the lake to the other, and as it passed now and then near him, he could see that Smith was in conversation with little Katy. "You needn't worry, Mr. Charlton, I'll fix him." It was the voice of the Guardian Angel. "I'll fix him, shore as shootin'." And there he stood looking at Albert.
Massa Gen'l, 'spect it be de bes'; for afore de Laud I feels curous when you is fitin'. Somehow I doesn't jes' feel rite all de time dey is shootin'. It seems dey would kill a darky jes'as quick as dey do a white man. "'Yes, said the General; 'why not? "'Well, sah, I doesn't know why; it 'pears like dey wouldn't kill the darkies when we work for dem so long.
There's men 'd fight shy o' staying 'round here." "Well, it doesn't worry us. We didn't suppose there was any one around here, though, and we wondered who it was we heard shooting last night and we are glad to find out. Did you get any big alligators?" "'Twasn't me shootin'. I didn't shoot las' night. Say! You've gotter look out! I know them fellers. One on 'em's bad and you boys ain't safe.
"Follow out that same reasonin' to the bitter end!" he cried, "an' what will happen ef that traveller whirls round, cuttin' meridians jest twice as fast as the sun goin' the same way?" He paused, but there was no reply. "Why, as sure as shootin', I tell ye, that feller will get jest one day younger fer every two whirls round!" There was a long and momentous silence.
"The next field," said the host, "is pasture. We line up along the hedge, and drive that mustard towards the roots; there ought to be a good few birds." "Shelton rose, and, crouching, stole softly to the gate: "On the twelfth, shootin' in two parties," followed the voice of Mabbey from the distance.
But what's a man without a hoss on the range? Suppose his hoss is stole while he's hundred miles from nowhere? What does it mean? You know; it means dyin' of thirst and goin' through a hundred hells before the finish. I say shootin' a man is nothin' compared with stealin' a hoss. A man that'll steal a hoss will shoot his own brother; that's what he'll do. But I don't need to tell you.
Weary's in Dry Lake. He is drunk. And he is shootin' up the town. If yuh don't want t' believe it, I guess they's no law t' make yuh but if yuh got any sense, and are any friends uh Weary's, yuh'll mosey in and fetch him out here if yuh have t' bring him the way he brung ole Dock that time Patsy took cramps. Go on in and see fer yourselves, darn yuh!