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When he had finished his writing he crossed over to the group, tossed a bill on the bar and waved all hands to a drink. Waddles had instructed Evans to start the men back before the spree had progressed to a point where they would refuse to leave Brill's and so leave the Three Bar short-handed. At the end of two hours he looked at his watch and snapped it shut. "Turn out!" he shouted.
Billie Warren had nearly completed her meal before the men came in. She left the table and went to her own room. When Harris rose to go he slapped the big man on the back. "I'd work for half pay where you get grub like this," he said. "That's what I'd call a real feed." Waddles beamed and followed him to the door.
Off his horse his motions are awkward, like those of certain tardigrade mammals of arboreal habits when removed from their tree. He waddles in his walk; his hands feel for the reins; his toes turn inwards like a duck's. And here, perhaps, we can see why foreign travellers, judging him from their own standpoint, invariably bring against him the charge of laziness.
That done, she scrapes the moist sand back into the hole, pressing it and patting it from time to time with her hind feet. This process takes much longer than digging the hole. When it is done to her satisfaction she waddles towards the creek. You might have some trouble to find the eggs but the skunk often gets them.
The sound is repeated and with the same result NOTHING! A third time I heard it, and then from the dark road on one side of me there waddles I recognise the waddling at once a shadow that, gradually becoming a little more distinct, develops into the rather blurry form of a dog a gaunt, hungry-looking mongrel.
The big man had fallen asleep with the paper he had been perusing still clutched in his hand. "Tell him to go his best," Waddles advised, when she had outlined Harris's scheme. "He'll put a bunch of terriers on the Three Bar that will cut Slade's claws. If they burn out the boys Cal Harris puts on the place then there'll be one real war staged at the old Three Bar."
Morrow leaped one way, then the opposite, as the sheriff groped for him. Alden turned toward a rattle at the stove as he heard Slade's head crunch against the wall under Harris's savage thrust. "Down him!" Waddles roared. "Tear him down! Tear him down! I'm holding the door."
The window was thrown up to its full height by Waddles and the curtain snatched away from the gun which Harris held against Morrow's neck. Carp's apparent nervousness had vanished. He flipped back his vest and revealed a marshal's badge. "I'd as soon take you along feet first as any way," he said. "So if you feel like acting up you can start any time now."
Now since Billie has hired you, I trust you'll work up a pile of wood that will keep me going and folks call me Waddles," he added as an afterthought. "Very good, Mr. Waddles," the newcomer smiled. "You shall have your fuel." The big man grinned. "That title is derived from my shape and gait," he informed. "My regular name is Smith if you're set on tacking a Mister on behind it."
This bum detective waddles a lot like an old cow." "Then we've passed the boy who called to see us, and failed to leave a card," grinned Will. "We may meet him as we return!" "Here's hoping we bump straight into him if we do meet him," George exclaimed. "I'm just aching to get my hands on that fellow!" "I'm not particularly anxious to catch him just yet," Will suggested.
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