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He stood there looking straight at me without winking or offering to move. "What do you want?" I asked. "I want to make up to you for your trouble," said he. "I've got a good thing, and I want to let you in on it." "What kind of a good thing?" I asked. "Treasure," said he. "H'm," said I. I examined him closely. He looked all right enough, neither drunk nor loco.
If he's gone loco, I'll take him home under my arm " "I say, Boylan, what do you want of him this way? He's a newspaper competitor " "Mowbray got to me. Didn't try to, but he's there. Took the field as if it had been his work always. He's a friend, clever, courageous, a gentleman always, clean cut, a laugh, a hand and a boy over it all. I didn't know until I found him in danger.
"Loco Gringoes out after burro deer," was how the officials were led to judge them. Barlow, gone several hours, reported that Escobar had not turned up at the waterfront dives to which, according to the murdered Juarez, he reported now and then to keep in touch with his outlaw commander.
If his superiors had known that Loco Bissonnette, Tarboe's jovial lieutenant, had carried the keg of brandy into the house in a water-pail, not fifteen feet from where Lafarge sat with Joan, they might have asked for his resignation.
Bunner earnestly. "It's only the ones who have got rich too quick, and can't make good, who go crazy. Think of all our really big men the men anywhere near Manderson's size: did you ever hear of any one of them losing his senses? They don't do it believe me. I know they say every man has his loco point," Mr.
"'But loco or no loco, this yere Princess person is shore that good lookin' a pinto pony don't compare tharwith; an' when she gets her black eyes on our lieutenant, that settles it; we rounds up at her hacienda an' goes into camp. "'Besides the lieutenant thar's six of us. One of 'em's a shorthorn who matches me for age; which his name's Willis Jim Willis. "'Now I ain't out
It was a wonderful night; the moonlight drenched the valley, and there was the smell of camp-fires and horses over everything just the sort of a night for a guitar, just the sort of a night to make your blood run hot and to draw you out into the glitter and make you race with your shadow. When Mike moseyed in, along about ten o'clock, he was plumb loco; the moon-madness was on him strong.
"The finish was all that saved me from runnin' loco plumb over the rim. You see I was closer'n you to where Mercedes was hid. When Rojas an' his last Greaser started across, Laddy went after them, but I couldn't. Laddy did for Rojas's man, then went down himself. But he got up an' fell, got up, went on, an' fell again. Laddy kept doin' that till he dropped for good.
Lord, you're sweet! Your hair smells like cinnamon and clean kittens. You'd rather go bumping off in my flivver than sailing in that big Loco they've got there." "Yes," defiantly, "I would, and I'm ashamed of myself. I'm a throw-back to my horrid ancestor, the betting hostler." "Probably. I'm a throw-back to my ancestor the judge. I'll train you to meet my fine friends."
He handed the silver flask to Lionel, who found engraved on the side of it a merry and ingenious device, consisting of two briar-root pipes, crossed, and surrounded by a heraldic garter bearing the legend "Dulce est de-sip-ere in loco?" Was this Miss Georgia's little joke? Anyhow, he pocketed the flask with much gratitude; he guessed he might have need of it, if all tales were true.
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