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Updated: May 31, 2025
I had seen her once when a two-year-old, and I remembered Blister's pride as he told me she was to be placed in his hands by Judge Dillon. Yes, I would be glad to see "the mare," and I longed for the free sunlit world of which she was a part, as for a tonic. But this was, of course, impossible. So long as hard undiscerning materialism demanded editorials editorials I must furnish.
Dud countered with one of Blister's own homely apothegms. "What's the use of chewin' tobacco if you spit out the juice? Go through, I say. There's a cottonwood back of the kitchen." "You're fixin' for to hang me?" Houck asked, his throat and palate gone suddenly dry. "You done guessed it first crack," Tom nodded. "Not yet, boys," protested Haines in his whispering falsetto.
The men appeared somewhat interested in the pampered nervous-looking thoroughbreds, but made few comments. As compared to their women folk they seemed more silent than the very tomb itself. Long after the grangers had drifted out of our sight, Blister's thoughts seemed devoted to them. Several times he chuckled to himself.
"The patient's using language, but he won't really tear it off, because he knows that would hurt him more, and the blister will do him good in the end, if he bears with it." "But there's the blister's side to it, too. It's infernally tiring for a blister to be sticking on to such a fellow everlastingly. It'll fly off of itself before long, if he doesn't look out. Hullo! What am I saying?
His horse sense will tell him we wouldn't go that strong unless our cards was all blue. We're sittin' in the golden chair. O' course we'll give the birds a chance to save their faces make it plain that we're a whole lot obliged to 'em for lookin' after Powder River for us." Bob's sagging head went up. He had remembered Blister's injunction. "All right, Dud. Turn yore wolf loose.
"Maybe I'd better send her word I'm glad she come through all right." Blister's eyes were stony. "Maybe you'd better not. What claim you got to be remembered by that li'l' girl? You're outa her life, boy." Bob winced. The harsh truth wounded his sensitive nature. She had been his friend once. It hurt him to lose her wholly and completely. He rose.
It was fairly cool under the big tree by the track fence, and the click of Blister's stop-watch, with his varied comments on what those clicks recorded, drifted out of my consciousness much as had the dust-clouds. Even the thr-rump, thr-rump, thr-rump of flying hoofs crescendo, fortissimo, diminuendo finally became meaningless.
I stood before The Big Train's stall, fascinated by his wicked attempts to get at me until Blister's attention was attracted by the thud of the stallion's hoofs against the lower door. "Come on back here 'n' set down 'n' let that hoss get his rest, he ordered. I obeyed. "Why on earth did you take him?" I asked, when once more seated on the bale of straw.
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