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Waal, that disaccommodated the gals mightily, an' they hed a heap more interes' in that old wagin, all smellin' rank with wagin-grease an' tar, than they did in thar lovyers; an' they hed ruther hev hearn that old botch of a wheel that Pete Rodd hed set onto it com in' a-creakin' an' a-com-plainin' along the road than the sweetest words them boys war able ter make up or remember.
Sez I, "To see them old brown ruffs a-humpin' themselves up jest as lonesome-lookin' and cold no smoke a-comin' out of the chimblys to cheer 'em up to see the bare winders a-facin' the west, and no bright eyes a-lookin' out, nor curly locks for the sunlight to git tangled in to see the poor old door-step a-settin' there alone, as if a-tellin' over its troubles to the front gate, and that a-creakin' back to it on lonesome nights or cold, fair mornin's
He's got a regular palace up there above Sulphur hot and cold water all through the house, a furnace in the cellar, and two bath-rooms, so they tell me; I never was in the place. Well, I must go back I can't trust them girls a minute." She turned with a groan of pain. "'Pears like every joint in me is a-creakin' to-day."
Yere she comes, final, a-rattlin' an' a-creakin'; that old drunkard Monte a-poppin' of his whip, the six hosses on the canter, an' the whole sheebang puttin' on more dog than a Mexican officer of revenoo. When the stage draws up, Old Monte throws off the mailbags an' the Wells-Fargo box, an' gets down an' opens the door. But nobody emerges out. "'Well, I'm a coyote!
"Run quietly, boy! On your toes like me. You run like a walrus." "Tidn't me," gasped Blob. "It's ma legs. They keep on a-creakin." Swiftly they fled across the grass. Was there anybody at the lugger? were they free? The boy was sick with hope. Behind him he could hear far yells and the occasional clash of steel. Kit guessed what had happened.
It was jest like you was ridin' the edge of some steep and bad goin' and a maverick takes over and you know you got no business to put your hoss down after him. But your saddle is a-creakin' and a-sayin', 'Go git 'im! and you jest nacherally go. Kin you tell me what makes a fella do the like of that?" "I dunno, Pete. But chasin' mavericks is different." "Mebby. But the idee is jest the same."
"I'll be right thar Henry." "They'll soon be in sight," said the shiftless one, who had not taken his ear from the ground. "I kin hear the wheels a-creakin' and a-creakin', louder an' louder." "And they have not sent forward anybody to spy out the country, which is better for us," said Henry. "An' now I kin hear somethin' else," said Shif'less Sol.
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