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Updated: June 14, 2025
If he wants to make that valid, he wouldn’t dare any such deal!" "I’ll bet you without waitin’ to see a hole card," Anse replied, "that if that coyote was ever ridin’ on our side—which I don’t stretch ear to—he cut loose them traces long ago. There were them buzzards we had us a coupla run-ins with back in Tennessee, ’member?
"Shucks, it's simple as tying your shoe," stage driver Bill assured the excited, confused landseekers. "Jest take enough grub to last a coupla days and a bottle or two of strong whisky and git in line at the Land Office." The settlers were almost as excited as the landseekers. For many of them it was the first opportunity they had had since their arrival to earn a cash dollar.
"I'm makin' it mine," said Clay curtly. Bromfield stared. "I beg your pardon?" "I said it was mine too. You see I bought a coupla shares of Bird Cage stock yesterday. I'd hate to see Whitford ousted from control. I've got confidence in him." "It's your privilege to vote that stock this afternoon. At least it would be if it had been transferred to you on the books.
He kicked him in the ribs, he did, after he'd knocked him down a coupla times. Made him go down thar and look at the old survey stakes, he did, then made him drive his crazy car over to Adot, and old Squire Landry made out the deed and he signed hit and Welborn here paid him in a sack of gold dust that they weighed on the grocery scales. That's how 'twas done.
"They ain't, and I won't, and I do," was the brisk answer. "Yo're making a big mistake, Jimmie boy, if you think they're his pies. Don't you s'pose I know he's gone to Piegan City, and he won't be back for a coupla weeks? And don't you s'pose I know them pies would be too stale for him to eat by the time he got back? You must take me for a fool, Jimmie. And you lied to me, Jimmie, you lied.
Dey don't know youse, an', bein' a woman, dey won't pull no gun on youse. An' den youse breaks it gently to dem dat dere's a coupla gents outside, an' just about den dey looks up an' sees me an' Pinkie an' our guns-an' I guess dat's all. Get it?" "Sure!" mumbled Rhoda Gray. The Pug talked on. She did not hear him. It seemed as though her brain ached literally with an acute physical pain.
"Dud's bettin' he'll get the sky pilot to race him from here to Monty's place," explained Reeves. "Stick around. He'll want to borrow a coupla dollars from you to buy the drinks." It was Sunday afternoon. The missionary was returning from South Park, where he had been conducting a morning service. He was riding Tex Lindsay's Blue Streak, borrowed for the occasion.
They was two funny-lookin' old birds, too I'll say they was. They was about a hundred years old apiece and had long white whiskers like St. Peter, and, say, they talked a whole lot more than they dug. I guess they musta been workin' on that grave for a coupla weeks you know, ten minutes parlez-vous and then one shovela dirt.
Heard tell that Don Cazar, he’s set some good rewards on a coupla studs as was run off th’ Range this summer." "Don Cazar has good horses?" "’Bout th’ best in these here parts. He runs ’em on th’ Range th’ old style—stud an’ twenty—twenty-five mares together in a manada, all one color to a band. They sure is a grand sight: band o’ roans, then one o’ duns, an’ some blacks.
Say, Chief, a coupla guys stole a machine Holes-Mowbrays license number 6362656-W Got that? New York tag. They're on their way over to the State Line beyond the Cross Roads. They're gonta run her in the field just beyond the woods, you know. They're gonta give a flash light signal to their pal, three winks, count three slow, and three winks more, and then beat it.
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