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"They's jest seventy-five dollars and thirty cents; jest about enough to go back on. Tickets is fifty-five dollars, goin' an' comin'. That leaves twenty dollars for other expenses, not countin' what I've already spent, which is six-fifty," said she, recovering her self-possession. "It's plenty." "But y' ain't calc'lated on no sleepers nor hotel bills." "I ain't goin' on no sleeper.
'N' Navvies kinda ownin' rattlers as bein' their breed uh cats, they don't kill 'em off, so they's a heap 'n' plenty of 'em in that basin. "But I ain't aimin' t' git caught down in there, now I'm tellin' yuh! I aim t' keep along clost t' that there butte, 'n' out on the other side where we kin pick up luck's trail.
Anyways, he pulled that stall on Purdy fer some reason an' it's up to me to see him through with it. But if I do git doped it won't kill me an' when I come alive they's a couple of fellows goin' to have to ride like hell to keep ahead of me." He drank the liquor and as he returned the glass to the bar he noted the glance of satisfaction that flashed into Purdy's eyes.
Why, I ain't ever worked a day for the Service." "I guess he wanted you to look me over," said Lorry, smiling. "Well, they's lots of time, 'less you're in a hurry." "If I can't get in the Service, I'll look up a job punchin'," said Lorry. "I got to get somethin'." Bondsman stalked in, licking his chops. He nuzzled Shoop's hand. Lorry snapped his fingers. Bondsman strode to him.
"They's a hoss there comin' among the willows!" he announced. "Maybe it's Silent," remarked Haines casually. "The chief don't make no such a noise. He picks his goin'," answered Hal Purvis. The sound was quite audible now. "They's been some crooked work," said Rhinehart excitedly. "Somebody's tipped off the marshals about where we're lyin'."
"The silver'll get us a wonderful lot o' things we needs, and 'twill pay the debt at the post." "We has the marten skins, too," said Toby. "They's worth at the post thirty dollars apiece, good martens like they. Skipper Tom Ham says that be the price this year for good black martens, and all we has is black. I'm thinkin' the otter'll be bringin' fifty dollars whatever.
He's surly an' gnurlly an' omeny, Ryder is; an' has one of them awful lookin' faces where the feachers is all c'llected in the middle of his visage, an' bunched up like they's afraid of Injuns or somethin' else that threatenin' an' hostile them sort of countenances you notes carved on the far ends of fiddles. We-all is averse to Ryder.
We'd have to set back and watch a bunch of down-east rubes light down on us like flies on spilt molasses, and we couldn't do a thing." "As it is, we'll all turn nesters for the good of the cause!" finished Pink somewhat cynically, getting up and following Cal and Slim to the door. "Aw, I betche they's some ketch to it!" gloomed Happy Jack.
She took it and looked at it in a dazed way. "Yes. He was carrying this in the place of his crutch," she said, as if to herself. "We think somebody's been pushed over the bluff into the river, Mrs. Ballard, for they's a hunk been tore out as big as a man, from the edge, and it's gone clean over, and down into the river. We can see where it is gone. And it's an awful swift place."
Anyways, Joey tells me he's off this geezer and advises me to lay off him, too, though he can't name a thing against him." "Queer," said Knowlton, looking again at the canoe out on the water. "Gun running?" suggested McKay. "Nope," Tim contradicted. "I thought o' that, but Joey says they's nothin' to it; they watched this sourkrout close, and he don't never git no guns from nowheres.
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