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Updated: May 8, 2025
He laid his hand upon another body, in the same uniform as the first one. This man groaned slightly. "Dis one's not daid yit," said Dick, excitedly; "he been hit ober de haid, his face all bloody. Oh, Mars' Hil'ry, dem raidahs you done tell me 'bout been heah. Mars' Blodgett done shot dat one by de riber on de waf, an' den hit dis one wid his musket, an' den dey done shoot Mars' Blodgett.
At de time dey wuz fightin ovah de Union but aftuh de slave owners wuz gwianter take de innocent slaves an make dem fight on dey side. Den Lincoln said hit wouldn' be. So dat when he sot em free. Whoopee! Yo ought ter seed dem Yankees fightin. Aftuh de battle wuz ovah we would walk ovah de battle groun' an look at de daid bones, skellums ah think dey called em.
"Whut I does say, Miss Ma'y Ellen," she resumed, earnestly looking into the girl's face as though to carry conviction with her speech "whut I does say, an' I says hit fer yo' own good, is this; Mas' Henry, he's daid! He's daid an' buh'ied, an' flowehs growin' oveh his grave, yeahs 'n yeahs. An' you never wuz mahied toe him. An' you wan't nothin' but a gal.
When Sam Elkins come, I say, "Sh, Mistah Elkins, Miss Annie, she done tuk down," an' he say, "What, Jube, you don' reckon hit de " Den he stop an' look skeert, an' I say, "I feared hit is, Mistah Elkins," an' sheks my haid ez solemn. He goes outer de gate lookin' lak his bes' frien' done daid, an' all de time Miss Annie behine de cu'tain ovah de po'ch des' a laffin' fit to kill.
She felt the virile force of the man in the strain of his body as he pressed her close. It all seemed unreal a hideous dream the gloom, the moan of the wind, the weird solitude, and this rustler with hand and will like cold steel. "We'd come back to Greaves's store," Colter began. "An' as Greaves was daid we all got free with his liquor. Shore some of us got drunk.
"You must live to receive it," he said, "we need that money for the race. It must not go back to the white folks. Ain't you got nobody to leave it to?" "Not a chick ner a chile, 'ceptin' Sis' Dicey Fairfax here." Mr. Buford breathed again. "Then leave it to her, by all means," he said. "I don' want to have nothin' to do with de money of de daid," said Sis' Dicey Fairfax.
She's had seven husbands, four's daid an' two's divorced, an' one she's got yet, 'cordin' to the last I hearn say about it. I tell you, if a lady's got any self-respect, she'll git a divorce, an' she'll git married ag'in. That's what I say, with divorces reasonable, like they be, an' costin' on'y $17.50 to Mendova, or Memphis, er mos' anywheres." "How long how long does it take?"
"But what could happen?" asked Pan, darkly speculative. "Wal, to figger the way things run fer me an' Gus out heah I'd say this," replied Blinky, with profound seriousness. "We'll do all the cuttin' an' draggin' an' buildin'. We close up any gaps. We'll work our selves till we're daid in our boots. Then we'll drive drive them wild hosses as hosses was never drove before."
"Reddy, I wish the bullet that hit Shane to-day had hit me instead.... You needn't look like that. I mean it. To-day when the Sioux chased us my hair went stiff and my heart was in my mouth. I ran for my life as if I loved it. But that was my miserable cowardice.... I'm sick of the game." "Are you in daid earnest?" asked Larry, huskily. Neale nodded gloomily.
"Wal, I'll go to hell, Ben Bolt, if it ain't ol' Calico!" he ejaculated, in amaze and pleasure. "Kid, whar'd you ever git him?" "Dad made a trade," replied Pan. "Kid, look a heah. Don't ever tie that hoss to a stake pin. He's the best cow hoss I ever slung a leg over. The puncher who broke him an' reached him all he knows was my pard, long ago. An' he's daid.
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