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Updated: May 11, 2025
Rube's injured leg was still painful, and he had to be helped up the steep trail to Birkenshaw's camp. So Kiddie had not yet visited his wood-land retreat. There was a large party of them at supper. In addition to Abe Harum, Tom Lippincott and Jake Paterson, Sheriff Blagg had dropped in on his way home down the trail from Three Crossings, where he had been to look at a bunch of horses.
When Blagg had concluded, she began to speak in a voice which carried to the detached groups of men standing in the back row. "I'm not going to say much. But what I do say I want it to sink in. Come up closer all of you where we can see one another."
But money talks, and we all got to look out for Number One. I reckon none of the boys is honein' to go to work for a furrinor, but we all knows his money's good as yours and that's what counts." "You mean you're going to ditch me for Mascola?" Blagg dropped his eyes to the planks of the wharf before the girl's steady gaze. "We don't aim to ditch nobody," he said awkwardly. "But we got to live.
Rube and Isa Blagg both searched, but there was no likelihood of their finding any bootmarks on the grass. Rube went back to the path leading up from the landing-place. There had been heavy rain on the previous afternoon, and the ground was still moist enough to show the faint impressions of his own and Kiddie's moccasins, and yet more distinctly the marks of Isa Blagg's heavy boots.
Isa Blagg was in no haste to state the nature of the business which had brought him upon so long a journey in search of Kiddie; and Kiddie did not press him for an explanation of his unexpected visit. "Rube an' I, we ain't gettin' anyways tired of each other's company," Kiddie remarked when the meal was over and Isa was taking out his pipe. "All the same, Sheriff, we're main glad ter see you.
"They're gone, I see." Rube also looked up at the shelf. He knew where Kiddie kept his stock of cigarettes. He knew also that besides the cigarettes there had been several parcels of pipe tobacco. He observed now that while the cigarettes had been taken, the tobacco remained on the shelf untouched. This fact puzzled him. Kiddie had already gone into the farther room his workroom with Isa Blagg.
She dar'n't affront him, for where could she go if she was turned out of this? There's a dozen would jump at it, houses is so scarce and not to be had." "There ought to be a swift remedy for wretches like Blagg," Mrs. Chiverton indignantly exclaimed when they were clear of the foul-smelling hamlet.
No doubt he has his price." "Yes, Mr. Gifford, but a most extortionate price. And it is said he cannot sell without your consent." Mr. Gifford grew very red, and with stammering elocution repelled the implication: "Blagg wants nobody's consent but his own. The fact is, the tenements pay better to keep than they would pay to sell; naturally, he prefers to keep them." "But if you would follow Mr.
He had had no time to speak of his hatred or suspicion of Mascola. But he'd show the dago yet. A crowd of fishermen lumbered along the sidewalk toward him, talking excitedly. Leaning against the sign-board, Blagg was able to gather from their conversation that a fight had just occurred at the Red Paint. Some one had tried to get square with the boss and Mascola had knifed him.
The Indians, indeed, were going out under the cover of the horses, and as each brave passed the open gate he seized his chosen pony, tied an end of his lariat about its muzzle, and mounting, bare-backed, rode off. At length Isa Blagg succeeded in reaching the gate and closing it. He flung the heavy bars across and secured them in their staples.
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