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Updated: June 5, 2025
"I'll run and hide, while you count to one hundred." Away she ran, and Don began to count. Just as he said, "Ninety-five," she ran to the chicken-house door. It was standing open, so she stepped inside. Now there was something in the chicken-house that Joyce did not expect to find. One of Grandpa's pigs was there, rooting around in the loose straw.
For all we knew the Indians might be on us at any moment. There were three men of us, and each had a gun. The first thing we did was to harness and hitch the team to the wagon. Then we opened the gates to let the calves get to their mothers, turned the pigs loose, and opened the chicken-house door all this without light.
He went over to the chicken-house, probed with his knife-blade into the plank where was the splintered hole, and located a bullet. He was turning it curiously in his fingers when another one plunked into the boards, three feet to one side of him; this time he was sure of the gun-sound, and he also saw a puff of blue smoke rise up on the rim-rock above him.
You know I did not want a child in the first place. I am not that sort. I want to have a good time. I like admiration. I like amusements. You men get the keenest sort of pleasure out of gambling in stocks and futures. All day long you are in a whirl of excitement. But you expect us women to stay at home and be as humdrum as hens in a chicken-house.
"It was give me," said he, "for learning of something and we've got to get it up so as no one sees us. I can't think of nothing but build a chicken-house and then dig inside of it. I wish I was cleverer. Here Ward would have thought of something first go off." "Don't you worry," said Beale; "you're clever enough for this poor world. You're all right. Come on out and show us where you put it.
She sat with him held close in her lap for a while, watching his enemies within. Then she started on a long detour, with the new haystack as her destination. He kept close to her heels, snarling wearily. A few days before she had made a cave in the stack, which stood between the barn and the chicken-house.
Good Indian was going to the stable to feed the horses next morning, when something whined past him and spatted viciously against the side of the chicken-house. Immediately afterward he thought he heard the sharp crack which a rifle makes, but the wind was blowing strongly up the valley, and he could not be sure.
"Dogs were barking at something down in the orchard," Wally volunteered, passing over Baumberger's monologue. "I was going down there, but it was so dark and I thought maybe it was Gene's ghost. That was before the moon came up. Got any more biscuits, mum?" "My trap wasn't sprung behind the chicken-house," said Donny. "I looked, first thing."
For a week, there was a strong chicken flavor in all our conversation. This was while the poultry yard was building. There was a chicken-house on the place, but no yard, and Euphemia intended to have a good big one, because she was going into the business to make money. "Perhaps my chickens may buy the place," she said, and I very much hoped they would.
"Daddy Neptune's been worried by something or somebody stealing his fowls. He's been on the watch. So when he saw that that nigger over there running by the chicken-house, he just blazed away. Got him between the shoulder-blades." A yell so ferocious that Peter's marrow froze, burst from the posse, which had dismounted. "It's him!" howled a farm-hand, and kicked the corpse in the face.
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