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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Whoa, you bean-headed jasper," he yelled. "I'll ride you myself." His father caught a brown bald-faced horse, nothing much to look at, that acted gentle enough until he was mounted. Then! He arched his back, jumped up stiff legged, and began to pitch. Evidently Smith had been a horseman in his day. He stayed on. "Hang on, Dad," yelled Pan in delight. "Ride him, cowboy," shrieked Blinky.
The Bald-faced Kid glanced at the horse and his jaw dropped. "Well, by the limping Lazarus!" he ejaculated. "If they haven't gone and slipped him Last Chance! Yes, I'd know that darned old hay hound if he was stuffed and in a museum, and, by golly, that's where he ought to be! Last Chance!" "What's it to you?" growled Little Calamity sullenly. "Can't you mind your own business?"
"And maybe you got him a new set of legs, or lungs, or something? Well, Eliphaz, then do you know how fast that bird stepped the first half mile?" Old Man Curry nodded. "I reckon I do," said he simply. "I bet quite a chunk on him." "But of course you wouldn't open up and tell a friend!" The Bald-faced Kid was beginning to show signs of exasperation.
"Slip out and look after Sultan," whispered the Colonel. "I am aide-de-camp to the Prince and cannot come. Take him to the 'Bald-Faced Stag' in the Irongate, to your right across the Square. You should find Margaret there, and Mr. Freake." I was edging out in the tail of the procession when Mr.
He came ten ice-runs ago, the first of all the Wolves. And with him there was a mighty man, straight as a willow-shoot, and tall; strong as the bald-faced grizzly, with a heart like the full summer moon; his-' 'Oh! interrupted Mackenzie, recognizing the well-known Northland figure, 'Malemute Kid! 'The same, a mighty man. But saw you aught of the squaw?
"Pettigrew won't stand for no monkey business, pullin' a boss's head off on Monday and cuttin' him loose on Tuesday. They've got to be middlin' consistent p'formers to get by the major, and if Al Engle goes runnin' 'em in and out he'll get his jacket dusted good; you mark what I say!" The Bald-faced Kid shook his head. "That's your hope talking now," said he, "and not your common sense.
At the Bald-faced Stag, however, he found that he could get a feed of corn, and here he put up his horse, and saw the corn eaten. Pycroft Common was a mile from him, and to Pycroft Common he walked. He took the road towards Marlborough for half a mile, and then broke off across the open ground to the left.
Son, good looks has made grandfathers out of lots of men that by rights should have been locked up instead of married. Did you ever think of that?" The Bald-faced Kid laughed. "I think that you're putting up a whale of an argument to excuse yourself for shipping that black hay burner around the country. You'd save breath by admitting that Miles slipped one over on you."
The old woman said it would take him to Rump End Corner, "but she didn't know nowt o' t'other place." He took the lane, however, and without much difficulty made his way to the Bald-faced Stag, which, in the days of the glory of that branch of the Western Road, used to supply beer to at least a dozen coaches a-day, but which now, alas! could slake no drowth but that of the rural aborigines.
He lacked the Bald-faced Kid's finesse; lacked also his tireless energy, his insatiable curiosity, and the thin vein of pure metal which lay underneath the base. There was nothing about Squeaking Henry which was not for sale cheap; body and soul, he was on life's bargain counter among the remnants, and Abe Goldmark, examining the lot, found a price tag labelled three dollars a day.
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