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Updated: June 25, 2025
"One evenin', when John was loafin' in the bunk-house, ole Demijohn crawls up to his bunk and asks him, whisperin', if he ain't most always give John a good time when they met up. John cussed, but 'lowed that Demijohn was right. Then Demijohn took to pullin' at young John's sleeve and askin' him to come to town and have a good time.
Dick Freeman dropped the receiver and hurried into the neighboring bunk-house. "Boys," he said quietly, "Mrs. Newman just 'phoned me that Miss Tuttle went to walk at sunset, to be gone half an hour. She ain't got back yet. She is alone. Will some of you come with me?" Every hand of cards was dropped before Dick was half through his statement.
"And I can work out that dollar I owe you too, can't I?" "You're engaged," returned Mr. Crawford, crisply. "Thirty dollars a month and found. I'll have one of the boys show you where the bunk-house is. You'll begin work in the morning." As the significance of his change of fortunes began slowly to dawn on him, Conniston was at first merely amused.
He tried to forget his sorrow and bodily pains by checking over his old assay slips, while Bill wandered, like a bruised and melancholy survivor of a battle, from the mill to the hoist, from cabin to cabin, and mess-house to bunk-house, stopping now and then to stare upward at the peak, as if still thinking of that fresh and fragrant earth piled in a mound above Bells Park.
"Well," called Dick, "what did you learn?" It was the smith who answered, but the others never halted, continuing that slow march to the bunk-house. "We got him." "Where is he, then?" "Hanging to a beam across the dam he blew up," was the remorseless response.
This seemed an eternity to The Happy Family who, already famished, consulted their watches with increasing frequency while they watched the door of the bunk-house like cats at a mouse-hole for the cook to make his appearance.
If so, the Colonel might be induced to exchange. It was obvious that, like so many Southerners, he stood the sun very ill. While they were agreeing upon a rendezvous the Superintendent came back. "Our bunk-house is yonder," he said, pointing. A kind of sickness came over the Kentuckian as he recalled the place. He turned to his pardner.
I ain't stampeding clear to salt water 'cause she said 'Boo! at me and I don't need no cayuse t' show me the trail to a girl's house " At this point, Weary succeeded in getting a strangle-hold and the discussion ended rather abruptly as they had a way of doing in the Flying U bunk-house.
I I love my Cuban, but" he quivered apprehensively "I'll bet that rummy packs a 'shiv' in every pocket." From outside the bunk-house came the low, musical notes of a quail, and Glass puckered his lips to answer, then grew pale. "That's her," he declared, in a panic. "I've got a date with her." "Are you going to keep it?" "Not for a nose-bag full of gold nuggets!
"If she's made up her mind to call on us, there's no way under Heaven to head her off." They halted by the bunk-house door, undecided whether to go in or to stay out in the open. "By golly, she don't improve me!" Slim asserted pettishly. "I hate books like strychnine, and, by golly, she can't make me read 'em, neither." "If there's anything I do despise it's po'try," groaned Cal Emmett.
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