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And that hateful old Mrs. Hewitt, just after they'd moved back to Ashley, didn't she have to go and tell her about 'Gene's being born too soon after his father and mother were married? 'Gene took it from his mother she supposed; he wa'an't to blame, really. But she hoped Addie and Ralph would be like her folks. Not but what the Powerses were good-hearted enough.
They figger that uncle feller is around either this State or Minnesota likely this one, seein' the Colonel was comin' this aways when he got killed. We got yarnin', an' he was sayin' he thought o' huntin' out this uncle. I guessed ther' wa'an't much need, an' it might set him wantin' the dollars. The law feller said he wouldn't get 'em anyhow 'cep' the gal was dead. We kind o' left it at that.
Guess you was born a gentleman, Bob, which I wa'an't. An' because you was born an' raised that-a-way you'd surely like to kep right hold o' the notion that folks ken still act as though they'd been weaned on talk of honor an' sichlike. I sez kep a holt on that notion. Grip it tight, an' don't never let go on it. Grab it same as you would the feller that's yearnin' fer your scalp.
Some wise guy around here jest took himself by the neck and squeezed out a present of ten thousand dollars to the feller who'd sell up Lightfoot's good-will an' business. What happened? Why, it took jest about twenty-four hours for the transaction to be put through. Say, ever hear tell of a time when ther' wa'an't some feller waiting ready to grab on to ten thousand dollars? No, sir.
They went by the name of Whitstone, but their real name, by them papers, was Van Blooren " "What name?" Jeff's voice broke sharply in upon the little man. "Van Blooren." "Go on." Jeff's eyes were gazing out through the lacing of creeper. He was no longer regarding the man's unemotional gray features. "Wal, the place wa'an't worth the five thousand, 'cep' fer one clause in them papers.
It's the 'hands' on our range. Sure. Ther's some lousy guy on the Obar working in with the gang. Cowpunchers are a mongrel lot anyway. Ther' ain't one but 'ud souse the sacrament wine ef the passon wa'an't lookin' on. I guess we'll need to chase up the penitentiary re-cord of every blamed thief on our pay-roll. Maybe the cinch we're lookin' fer lies that way." "It's curious." "Curious?
Say, wa'an't ther' a yarn 'bout some blamed citizen what took to a cave, an' the checkens an' things got busy feedin' him?" "Ravens," said Sunny. "Ravens nuthin'," cried the indignant Sandy. "Checkens of the air, they was." Sunny shrugged. "That ain't no sort o' Bible talk, anyway," he protested. "You need suthin' what gives 'em a lesson. Now, ther's Nore an' his floatin' ranch "
Dat's how I done prove it to dat Andy Foger." "Rad, you didn't tell him we were going to South America?" asked Tom reproachfully. "Suah I done so, Massa Tom. Dat were de only way t' prove t' him dat I wa'an't gittin' too old." "Oh, Rad! I'm afraid " and Tom hesitated. "Oh, I don't believe it amounted to anything," interposed Ned. "Andy didn't have any one with him, did he, Rad?" "No, Massa Ned.
"Evenin', Birdie," he said bashfully. "Guess you were sewin'?" "Guess again," cried the girl readily, her eyes dancing at the contemplation of a few moments' badinage with a new candidate for her favors. "Well, you wa'an't playin' the pianner." But Birdie was quite equal to the best efforts of her candidates.
So I jest made out I was feelin' good seein' her git back, an' told her I wa'an't lookin' for information she didn't guess she was givin', and ther' wasn't no need fer her to say a thing. She guessed that was so. After that I passed things by, sayin' how some o' the boys hated sheriffs wuss'n rattlesnakes an' she laffed. Yes, sir, she laffed, an' it must have hurt her some.
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