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Updated: May 10, 2025
He slammed the door with ostentation and dropped with a loud laugh into his seat. "First smart thing I've known him do," said Drake to Bolles. "I am disappointed." Two buccaroos next left the room together. "They may get lost in the snow," said the humorous Half-past. "I'll just show 'em the trail." Once more he rose from the dinner and went out.
The superintendent came out of his office, following Sam to the kitchen. He gave no look or word to the buccaroos with their demijohn; he merely held his cigar sidewise in his teeth and walked with no hurry through the sitting-room. Sam took him through to the kitchen and round to a hind corner of the stove, pointing. "Misser Dlake," said he, "slove no bloke. I hear them inside.
The further they were from breakfast the nearer they were to dinner; yet the happy shootings waned! The spirit is a strange thing. Often it dwells dumb in human clay, then unexpectedly speaks out of the clay's darkness. It was no longer a crowd Drake had at the target. He became aware that quietness had been gradually coming over the buccaroos.
He sat in his sledge deeply muffled, blinking at Drake and the buccaroos, who had strolled out to look at him, "Done a big business this trip," said he. "Told you I would. Now if you was only givin' your children a Christmas-tree like that I seen that feller yer schoolmarm doin' just now hee-hee!" From his blankets he revealed the well-known case.
The great genial logs lay glowing, burning; from the fresher one the flames flowed and forked; along the embered surface of the others ran red and blue shivers of iridescence. With legs and arms crooked and sprawled, the buccaroos brooded, staring into the glow with seldom-winking eyes, while deep inside the clay the spirit spoke quietly.
"You're no schoolmarm!" exclaimed Drake; "you please me." "The worst of a bad thing," said the mild Bolles, "is having time to think about it, and we have been spared that." "Here they come," said Drake. They did come. But Drake's alert strategy served the end he had tried for. The drunken buccaroos swarmed disorderly to the door and halted. Once more the new superintendent's ways took them aback.
He won the heart of Bolles by lending him a good horse; but the buccaroos, though they were boisterous over the coming Christmas joy, did not seem especially grateful. Drake, however, kept his worries to himself. "This thing happens anywhere," he said one night in the office to Bolles, puffing a cigar. "I've seen a troop of cavalry demoralize itself by a sort of contagion from two or three men."
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