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Updated: May 18, 2025
Mebbe ef I thought about it fer a few days I wouldn't be able t' do it, an' he mightn't have another chanct like this in his whole life." He drew a frayed bit of rope from a torn pocket, and tied it to the old strap that served as Baldy's collar handing the end to "Scotty." In the deepening shadows of the chill November dusk the boy's face was ashen.
When the shoeing operation had been neatly and quickly attended to and Baldy released from his uncomfortable position he struggled to his feet with heavy breaths, shook himself, and looked at his master. "How'd you like being hog-tied?" queried his conqueror, rubbing Baldy's nose. "Now, after this you'll have some manners."
Then the guileless traveller would casually let Baldy know that he'd got his name on the electoral list, and show some interest in Baldy's political opinions, and oppose them at first, and finally agree with them and see a lot in them be led round to Baldy's way of thinking, in fact; and ultimately depart, rejoicing, with a full nose-bag, and a quiet grin for his mate.
With which he rose, stretched himself, and gave orders. "Time to turn in, boys. We're combing Old Baldy to-morrow, remember." "And Old Baldy's sure a holy terror," admitted Slim. "Come three more days and we'd ought to be through. I'm not going to grieve any when we are. This high life don't suit me too durned well," put in Benwell. "Yet when you come here first you was a right sick man, Tom.
"No, they're here," returned Baldy, in a low voice. "How can you tell?" Alice asked. "I can hear the stamping of their ponies. They're tethered just beyond there past that clump of trees." He pointed as he spoke, and, at the same moment, from that direction came the whinny of a pony. It was answered by Baldy's horse. "I thought so," said the cowboy, quietly. "They're here."
He swayed on his horse; had he been on foot, the earth would have risen and conquered him; but in the saddle he was a master of equilibrium, and laughed at whisky, and despised the centre of gravity. Webb turned in his saddle at the signal. "If I was you," came Baldy's strident and perverting tones, "I'd be king!"
"Boys," he gasped in amazement, "Baldy's gone lame. He's so stiff he can scarcely move. I can't understand it, for he was all right when I turned in." At the slightest touch the dog winced, and Allan was appalled at the situation. He had trained nearly all of the dogs so that they could lead under most circumstances; but this final struggle would require far more than ordinary ability.
"Don't you dare hold that close to me!" cried Ruth, apprehensively. The result of Baldy's talk with Jumping Horse was not encouraging, as the cowboy reported later. "You can't argue with an Indian," he said, gloomily. "He can only see his side of the game." "Then he refuses to let us go?" asked Mr. DeVere. "That's about it," was the moody answer.
He's goin' to lead 'em up in his red sleigh and wait a minute, don't order no drinks yet he's goin' to drive down here to Yellowhammer and give the kids the kids of this here town the biggest Christmas tree and the biggest cryin' doll and Little Giant Boys' Tool Chest blowout that was ever seen west of the Cape Hatteras." Two minutes of absolute silence ticked away in the wake of Baldy's words.
Frank got the three of us to hold Baldy's head and pull him up, then he ventured to lift a hind foot over his line. Old Baldy straightened out his leg and sent Frank sprawling into the dirt. Twice again Frank patiently tried to hold a hind leg, with the same result; and then he lifted a forefoot.
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