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Updated: May 5, 2025
"Ah, Miss, you don't have such men as Tom Ruger out where you come from," said the driver, as Tom disappeared up the road. "And them nags of his'n can't be beat this side of the mountains. He makes a heap o' money with 'em." "What! a horse-jockey?" exclaimed Miss Borlan. "We don't call him that, miss. Some says he's a sportin' man, which ain't nothin' ag'in him, for the country's new, ye see.
Ruger, and bowed and smiled as he drew up at her window. "So you arrived all safe, Miss Borlan? How do you like the place?" "Better than the inhabitants," she answered, with a glance over the way. "Than those, I mean. Is it a hospital?" "For the present I believe it is." "And will be for some time to come, if they all stay till they're cured. But have you seen Jack?" "Yes last evening.
It would spoil all my enjoyment of the occasion." "Bet yer ten to one ye don't swing him!" cried Watson, springing to his feet with sudden inspiration, and mounting the bench he had been whittling. "Twenty to one Jack Borlan don't choke this heat! Who takes me? who? who?" No one seemed disposed to take him. "Bosh! you Ten Milers are all babies.
Borlan, believing it to be his duty, as client, to aid his counsel in the defense, went in gladly. Still it was quite warm; also somewhat smoky from the powder that had been burned; likewise noisy. Not so noisy, however, that Mr. Borlan could not hear his counsel say: "Clear yourself, Borlan! My horses are down at the ford!" Mr. Borlan followed the advice of his counsel, and Mr. Ruger followed Mr.
And it was this fact that brought these diligent delvers after hidden treasure from their work, for Bill had not gone in the ordinary way. At night he was in the full enjoyment of health and a game of poker; in the morning they found him just outside the domicile of Jack Borlan, with a small puncture near the heart to tell how it was done. Such was life at Ten Mile Gulch. Who made the puncture?
He was very sorry that he could not wait for you, but it may be as well, however. He has gone down to San Francisco, and he will wait for you there. The stage leaves here in about two hours, and I advise you to take passage in it, if you are not too much fatigued." "I'm not tired a bit, Mr. Kuger. I will go back. Thank you for the trouble you have taken." "No trouble, Miss Borlan.
I'll be prosecuting attorney, if no one objects; now, who'll defend the prisoner at the bar?" "I'll make a feeble attempt that way," was the reply that came from the doorway. All eyes turned, and recognized Tom Ruger. "This is betwixt us Ten Milers," said Watson. "Borlan is guilty, and we're bound to hang him before sundown; but we want to do the fair thing, and give him the benefit of a trial.
He also noticed that patched noses and heads, and canes and crutches, were the predominating features in the group of Ten Milers, with an occasional closed eye and a bandaged hand to vary the monotony. Miss Fanny Borlan, from her window at the Ten Mile House, also noticed the dilapidated looks of the frequenters of the Miners' Home, and wondered if they kept a hospital there. Then she saw Mr.
Who of you Ten Milers will defend him?" "I told you I would defend Mr. Borlan," said Tom Ruger, as he removed his silk hat and wiped his broad forehead with the finest of silk handkerchiefs. "I tell you we won't have any outsiders in this game," said Watson. "I really dislike to contradict you, Mr. Watson," remarked Tom Ruger, as he very carefully readjusted his hat. "Very sorry, Mr.
Watson was still enjoying the shade of the acacia-bush. In fact, he couldn't get away, which Mr. Ruger well knew. "It's all up with me, Gulchers," whispered Watson. "Ruger was too many for me, and I ought to have known it. You'll find Bill Foster's dust in a flour-sack, in my cabin. My respects to Borlan when you see him, and tell him I beg his pardon for discommoding him.
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