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While the rest of us unloaded the wagon, McCann, who was swearing by both note and rhyme, unearthed his saddle from amongst the other plunder and cinched it on his nigh wheeler.

This would never do. The leather felt like hot iron. A consultation. The cook's blankets were brought out, folded and cinched on the saddle, the stirrups shortened. Again Whitey mounted. The torture was somewhat less. Painfully he galloped away.

On top of both was placed the aparejo, which was cinched by a wide grass-bandage. This band was drawn as tightly as possible, to such an extent that the poor brute grunted and groaned under the apparently painful operation, and when fastened he seemed to be cut in two.

Driven into the corral where their freight had been divided into packs of from one hundred to one hundred and fifty pounds, they were one by one saddled, cinched, and packed. A small mule would seem to be unequal to carrying two side-packs, each consisting of three fifty-pound sacks of flour, and perhaps a case of boots for a top-pack. But protests of groans and grunts would be unavailing.

Walter Stone cinched up the saddle and mounted his pony. The boy's eyes shone as he gazed at the strong, soldierly figure. Ah, to look like that, and ride a horse like that! Boyar, the black pony, clattered up and stopped. "Hello, folks!" said Louise, purposely including the boy in her greeting. Collie flushed happily.

She stood on the porch, watching him as he proceeded to the corral, caught the pony, and flung a bridle on it. Then he led the animal to the porch and cinched the saddle carefully. Throwing the reins over the pommel of the saddle, he stood at the animal's head, waiting. She came to the edge of the porch, placed a slender, booted foot into the ox-bow stirrup, and swung gracefully up.

"He said that there was such a man and that he had the estate cinched. He told us about that note and all the rest. But he wouldn't tell the man's name. Said he had been forbidden to mention it. Do you know him? What sort of fellow is he? Don't you think he could be reasoned with? Hasn't he got any decency or pity or " He choked, and the tears rushed to his eyes.

"Well, what is it?" demanded the now thoroughly irritated manager. "Not a dozen sheets of paper put up by the whole crew," was the startling announcement. "That Sparling outfit has plastered every spot as big as your hand for forty miles around here." "What! Why didn't you cover them?" shrieked the manager. "Cover them nothing! They had every location cinched and nailed down.

I guess I go see Beattie now." "Sit down," said Mahooley. "What do you want to see Beattie for? Why don't you trade with me? Why don't you tell all the Fish-Eaters to come here? They do what you tell them." "Maybe," said Musq'oosis, "but we always trade wit' Beattie." "Time you made a change then. He thinks he's got you cinched." "Gilbert Beattie my good friend." "Hell! Ain't I your friend, too?

But if a thunderbolt had crashed in their midst it could not have disturbed the vigilantes more. "He's a rustler, Miss Kate; belongs to Soapy Stone's outfit," Sweeney answered the girl. "Can you prove it?" "We got him double cinched." "Then let the law put him in prison." "He shot yore paw," Buck reminded her. "Is that why you're doing it?" "Yes'm," and "That's why," they nodded.