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Updated: May 26, 2025
Just as we entered it from one side a huge monster emerged from the jungle upon the other, and at sight of us charged madly in our direction. Imagine, if you can, a bald-faced hornet of your earthly experience grown to the size of a prize Hereford bull, and you will have some faint conception of the ferocious appearance and awesome formidability of the winged monster that bore down upon me.
Miles stooped to extinguish a burning match end which the Kid had thrown on the floor, and in that instant the Bald-faced Kid caught Old Man Curry's eye and shook his head ever so slightly. "He ain't for sale," said the owner of Eliphaz. "Not for cash and your own figure?" persisted Miles. Again a wordless message flashed across the tackle-room.
When she was a mile away, the eldest brother followed her, for he wanted to see if the grass around the farthest slough would make good cutting. He rode the bald-faced pony, and across his pommel was slung his musket. The little girl did not see him. Content with the blue mare beneath her, her mind busy, she rode on.
The Bald-faced Kid recalled him to earth by his breezy greeting, and what it lacked in reverence it made up in good will. Old Man Curry and the hustler were friends, each possessing trait which the other respected. "Well, old-timer, you put airing your lace curtains a little?" "Eh? What? Oh, good evening, Frank, good evening! I been walking up and down some.
He certainly surprised the Bald-faced Kid, and grieved him too, for that youth had persuaded a most promising client to bet his last dollar on Topaz. Topaz was second, which was some consolation, but the horse without any license to start in such company passed under the wire with three lengths to spare, his mouth wide open because of a strong pull.
"Ain't it the truth!" ejaculated the Bald-faced Kid, with a depth of feeling quite foreign to his nature. "You surely spoke a mouthful then!" Old Man Curry raised one eyebrow slightly and continued his discourse. "For a man even to figger on gettin' married, he ought to have something comin' in steady something that bad hosses an' worse men can't take away from him.
"Wal, I reckon some bald-faced galoot got yappin', leastways there wus a temperance outfit come right along an' lay hold o' the boss. Say, flannel-mouthed orators! I guess that feller could roll out more juicy notions on the subject o' drink in five minutes than a high-pressure locomotive could blow off steam through a five-inch leak in ha'f a year.
One paddock habitué, usually a keen seeker after information, might have received a hint worth money had he come after it. Old Man Curry noted the absence of the Bald-faced Kid, and when the bugle sounded the call to the track he turned the bridle over to Shanghai, the negro hostler, and ambled into the betting ring in search of his young friend.
He lost it in a friendly game with the friends who were clever enough to plan the raid on the Bald-faced Kid's bank roll, using Henry as a tool, much as the coastwise Chinaman uses a cormorant in his fishing operations. Stripped of his opulence, Squeaking Henry found himself flat on the market again. Henry was a tout, hence an easy and extemporaneous liar, but, alas, a clumsy one.
A new owners' badge dangled prominently from his buttonhole, and this he fingered from time to time with manifest pride. He peered in at Last Chance and beamed upon the Bald-faced Kid with the utmost friendliness, his thick eyeglasses giving him the appearance of a jovial owl. "Well," said he heartily, "I see you're looking him over, young man.
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