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Updated: June 17, 2025
And now, says he, 'I'm goin' after Uncle Jim Matthews; and me and him and the Crawford boys'll lay the body out when the undertaker comes. And Marthy Matthews will have to come over and stay all night. "Says I, 'Sam, how is Mary bearin' it? "He shook his head, and says he, 'The worst way in the world.
Either you think the 'boys'll' get lively with their shooting-irons and hunt the bear too well, or else I don't know what else. Only this, you can't pretend to be hoodooed or 'bewitched' with any of Wun Sing's omelettes. That's all up. The doctor's taken a hand in that and I know it isn't indigestion you're bewitched with it's plain sneak. Now, boy, get up!"
All the boys'll understand. Keep it dead under your hat. We'll talk over the details tomorrow." Chuckling, he leaned back and opened his arms wide, his fists closed. "Rope!" he said. "Rope! Chief, we'll give 'em a hawser!"
Anything you think of you want, the boys'll ride up and fetch it down for you." It was Chad Murchison, a cow-puncher from the Circle Bar outfit, who first suggested that McGuire's illness was fraudulent. Chad had brought a basket of grapes for him thirty miles, and four out of his way, tied to his saddle-horn.
She pulled two or three of these from her coat pocket and passed them over to the men. "They sure look mighty good to me," she chuckled. "The truth of the matter is that that mine ain't never been worked right. We can knock it so skilful, though, Gallito, that the boys'll be glad to let us have it for 'most nothing. Jus' look 'round the hall, Bob, an' see if you can see 'em here to-night."
I'll bring him round with this, or die in the attempt," soliloquized Mr. Clinton, swinging the key between his thumb and finger. "By-the-by," he added, suddenly thrusting it deep into a side-pocket, "I'll just stroll down Chartres-street, and see what the boys'll do when they find it out." Mr. Clinton was evidently perfectly sober.
That worthy had started on a similar errand, and on meeting, the two stared at each other in the moonlight as blankly as a couple of well-preserved mummies. "S'pose the boys'll believe us?" whispered the colonel. "We ken bring 'em down to see the show themselves, ef they don't," replied Tom.
You don't know the trail anyway unless you can see it." "But I can't stay here?" incredulously. "Why not? Why, that's all right! The boys'll come up an' dig us out to-morrow or day after. There's plenty o' wood an' you can have my bed." And with no more ado than that, the Girl went over to the bed to remove the covers and make it ready for his occupancy.
"Bein' 's it's Sattidy night, 'most likely he'll come." "Hope Abner's feelin' friendly, then," said Pliny with an anticipatory twinkle in his shrewd little gray eyes which gave direct contradiction to his words. "If Abner hain't feelin' jest cheerful them boys'll be wrastlin' all over town and pushin' down houses." "They hain't never fit yet," said Scattergood.
"When you expectin' him back?" "The boys'll be comin' back in a week. He'll likely come along with them." "U um. You're giving me a free hand?" "Of course." Ferguson lounged to the door. "I'm lookin' around a little," he said, "to kind of size up things. I don't want you to put me with the outfit. That strike you right?" "I'm hirin' you to do a certain thing," returned Stafford.
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