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Cheyenne made the saddle on the run, reined toward the corral, and, passing it on the run, turned in the saddle to glance back. Sneed was in the doorway. Cheyenne jerked his horse to one side and dug in the spurs. Sneed's rifle barked and a bullet whined past Cheyenne's head. He crouched in the saddle. Again a bullet whistled across the sunlit clearing. The cow-horse was going strong.
Now, if I'd 'a' knowed you was around, I'd 'a' asked you to have a drink with me." A tall, heavy-set mountain man, bearded, and limping noticeably, stepped round the end of the spring fence and strode toward him. From Uncle Frank's description, Cheyenne at once recognized the stranger as Sneed. Across Sneed's left arm lay a rifle. Cheyenne saw him let down the hammer as he drew near.
Sneed said: "Oh, you needn't make such a fuss over me. I suppose I can go on with this, if I am suffering. Bring back the horse." The overturned cutter was righted, and the play went on. This time no mishap occurred and the race was run to a successful finish. "Now, Alice and Ruth, you will get into the larger cutter, and with Paul for a driver we'll make the next scene," directed Mr.
"Are you acquainted with the mayor?" asked Katy, timidly, for, since the adventure of the previous day, she had entertained some slight doubts in regard to the transcendent abilities of Master Simon Sneed. "Certainly I am. It was only last week that I had a long and extremely interesting conversation with his honor on the sidewalk here before the store."
Evidently Nick Peters's experience of the law was in its criminal rather than in its civil phases, but the surprise died out of his face, and he presently said, with a beguiling air of frankness, "Now, Mr. Sneed, ye see this happens right in my way of trade.
'Pinnock's Mis'ry' be hyar-abouts somewhar, a plumb quicksand, what a man got into an' floundered an' sank, an' floundered agin, an' whenst they fund him his hair war white an' his mind deranged. Or else we-uns mought run off'n a bluff somewhar, an' git our necks bruk." Now Persimmon Sneed was possessed of a most intrusive curiosity, and he was further endowed with a sturdy courage.
"So don't you trouble, little girl, about trifles; and whenever you want help, you just tell the old man. He knows a thing or two yet, whether it is on Wall Street or Fifth Avenue." Sneed was known in New York as the General, probably because he had absolutely no military experience whatever.
But they hed suthin' ter look tormented an' tribulated 'bout," said the girl, evidently disappointed to find the jury of view not more cheerful of aspect. "But mebbe conversin' a passel by the way with old Persimmon Sneed is powerful depressin' ter the sperits." Selwyn's face grew grave at the mention of the coroner's jury. "I'm afraid that poor fellow missed something good," he said.
Sneed. "No bears for me. I won't act with one. Why, he'd claw me to pieces!" "Ah, no, Signor!" interrupted Tony. "Bruno he very gentle just-a like-a de little babe. He no hurt-a you, Signor." "Well, I'm not going to take any chances," declared the "grouch." "This is too dangerous." "Ha! I am not afraid!" cried Mr. Switzer.
"Look out, everybody!" he cried as he sprang away. "Are we safe here?" Mr. Sneed asked anxiously. "You're all right," one of the workmen assured him. "Oh, I'm so nervous!" faltered Ruth. "No need of it," answered Alice, as she leaned forward to watch the spouting of the oil from the well. There was a dull rumble beneath the surface of the earth. The ground seemed to heave and shake.
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