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Updated: June 9, 2025
"One slaughter in the pan, and let the blood drip!" "I should like a glass of water, please," said I. The colonel threw me a look of pity. "One Missouri and ice for the professor!" he said. "That fello's a right live man," commented the Virginian. But he seemed thoughtful. Presently he inquired, "Yu' say he was a foreigner, an' learned fancy cookin' to New Yawk?" That was this cow-puncher's way.
I was tempted to; but on second thoughts the idea made me feel kind of uneasy. Perhaps you'll be dubious of this, but, as a fact, I took a 'tie-pass' walked it all the way to Calgary on the track. I was about done when I made Shagnappi Point, beating my passage through all that snow. I bought a new pair of cow-puncher's boots while I was in town. You remember I was wearing them when I returned.
When Barker reached for it to see better, since it was half hidden in the cow-puncher's big hand, Lin yielded it to him, but still stood and soon drew it back.
Then followed Torn Rich, jogging along easily in the cow-puncher's "Spanish trot" whistling soothingly to quiet the horses, giving a lead to the band of saddle animals strung out loosely behind him. These moved on gracefully and lightly in the manner of the unburdened plains horse, half decided to follow Tom's guidance, half inclined to break to right or left.
Not if talk could prevent it would Taterleg allow them to be classed as a pair of boors who could not go beyond the ordinary cow-puncher's range in word and thought. "It'll be some time, ma'am, before that feller Hargus and his boy'll try to make a short cut to Glendora through your ranch ag'in," said he.
Insultin'! all I c'n say is, if it ever happened t' me, it'd be my dyin' wish that I'd have a gun in each hand." A few moments of silence followed the old cow-puncher's story. In reciting this page from the book of his life he had lost thought of his surroundings, but now he remembered, and seemed startled at having talked so much.
This brotherhood swam and beamed before the cow-puncher's brooding eyes, and in his ears the greeting of the season sang. Children escaped from their mothers and ran chirping behind the counters to touch and meddle in places forbidden. Friends dashed against each other with rabbits and magic lanterns, greeted in haste, and were gone, amid the sound of musical boxes.
She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at the sky. "We're in for a storm. You'd ought 'o have a slicker, no fancy 'raincoat, but a real old-fashioned cow-puncher's oilskin. They make a business of shedding rain. Leather's no good, neither is canvas; I've tried 'em all." She rode on for a few minutes in silence, as if disgusted with his folly, but she was really worrying about him.
At length, two of the men managed to bring Dyke's wrists close enough together to allow the sheriff to snap the handcuffs on. Even then, Dyke, clasping his hands, and using the handcuffs themselves as a weapon, knocked down Delaney by the crushing impact of the steel bracelets upon the cow-puncher's forehead.
I called you in because she said she wanted to see a real cow-puncher." "Oh, BUCK!" cried the woman. For an instant the cow-puncher's level brows drew together. Then he caught the woman's glance fair. He smiled. "Well, I ain't much to look at," he proffered. "That's not for you to say, sir," said Estrella, recovering. "Brent, here, gentled your pony for you," exclaimed Senor Johnson.
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