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Updated: June 29, 2025
Otherwise he would have to surrender or fight, and neither of these fitted in with his plans. Once he had heard Emerson Crawford give a piece of advice to a hotheaded and unwise puncher. "Never call for a gun-play on a bluff, son. There's no easier way to commit suicide than to pull a six-shooter you ain't willin' to use." Dug Doble was what Byington called "bull-haided."
But on a day in the very last of winter, when every one was in the thick of all the year's tasks and cares, there came to Leonard this letter: LEONARD BYINGTON, ESQUIRE: SIR, I find myself compelled to ask that you consider your acquaintanceship with my wife at an end. Doubtless this request will give you more relief than surprise.
I only ask you not to fancy that I am to be beguiled by arguments or denials or moved by threats, or that one word I here write is founded on conjecture or inference. Grovelling at my feet, in sobs of shame and with prayers for pardon, Isabel has told me all. Has told me all, Leonard Byington, my once trusted friend.
Understand me, precious: if you have the least ground to fear" "Mother! mother! No! no! What! afraid I may love some one else? Never! never! Oh, without boasting, and knowing what I am as well as Leonard Byington knows" "Oh, pshaw! Leonard Byington!" "He knows me, mother, as if he lived at a higher window that looked down into my back yard." The speaker smiled.
He took it as a personal reflection on himself. Still smouldering with anger at this high-handed proceeding, Dave went down to the Longhorn Corral and saddled his horse. He had promised Byington to help water the herd. This done, he rode back to town, hitched the horse back of a barber shop, and went in for a shave.
What did surprise me and perhaps for a time I may have shown surprise was to see, in all this gay throng, two forms not usual on the Manning landing. One was the elegantly garbed and rather stunning figure of Sally Byington; and the other the robust, full-bodied, gorgeously arrayed form of my old friend, Cal Davidson! How or why they came there I could not for the moment guess.
"I cal'late," said a rustic member of his vestry, "th' never was as pretty a weddin' so simple, nor as simple a weddin' so pretty!" Because he said it to Leonard Byington he ended with a manly laugh, for by the anxious glance of his spectacled daughter he knew he had slipped somewhere in his English.
And once more the new year followed the old. On one of its earliest days, "I cal'late," a certain somebody began to say to General Byington, "th' never was a happier weddin' so quiet, nor a qui " But he caught the sheen of his daughter's spectacles and forebore.
"My dear," persisted Isabel, rebukingly, "I mean such friends as Ruth Byington." Mrs. Morris let go her little Southern laugh once more. "Don't you believe her, General don't you believe her. She means you every bit as much as she means Ruth. She means everybody on Bylow Hill." "I'm at the mercy of my interpreter," said Isabel.
Byington had been a hard-rock Colorado miner in his youth. He examined the dam and came back to the place chosen. After taking off his coat he picked up the hammer. "Le's start. The sooner the quicker." Dave soaked the gunnysack in water and folded it over the top of the drill to deaden the sound. Buck wielded the hammer and Bob held the drill.
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