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Updated: May 18, 2025
"We're his friends and you'll be coyote-meat before mornin' if you git too careless with that gun." The sentry grunted and poked Pete in the back with his rifle, informing him in that terse universal idiom that he could "tell it to El Comandante." From the outer darkness to the glare of the light in the 'dobe was a blinding transition.
What injucement can we offer Eastern Capital to settle in our midst if, instead of bein' quiet and law-abidin', we go on a-rarin' and a-pitchin' and a-runnin' wide open, every man for hisself? What are we here for, you, and you, and me, if it ain't to set in trile over such britches of the peace?" "You're in," said Dan Anderson, succinctly. "Get over to your 'dobe.
Boggs listened intently and then smiled for the first time since dawn. "Bully for you, Terry!" he enthused. "Wait till dark we'll fool 'em." A bullet chipped the 'dobe at Terry's side and he ducked as he leaped back. "From an angle what did I tell you?" he laughed. "We'll drop out here an' sneak behind the house after dark. They'll be watching the door an' they won't be able to see us, anyhow."
When we first came to this place, we planned on building a fine house, but I never had the money loose, and we've just kept on from year to year living in this 'dobe hole. Good thing I didn't have the money, however, for we'd lose the house along with the ranch if we had built. Well, we're going back East, anyhow, as soon as I sell the sheep.
That idea now seemed insignificant, compared with the present possibilities. "I'm a free agent," he soliloquized. "I think I'll take a hand in this, myself." He snapped his fingers as he turned and hastened to Dobe's stall. He led Dobe out to the stable floor, got his saddle from the office, told the sleepy stableman that he was going to take a little ride, and saddled Dobe.
"And the moment we pulled into Quito, she did what she'd done before vanished. Sarah never believes me when I say how relieved I felt to be quit of her. But it was not to be. I got to my 'dobe house and managed a cracking fine dinner my cook had ready for me. She was mostly Spiggoty and half Indian, and her name was Paloma.
Bartley promptly went over the fork and slid to the ground. Dobe gazed down at his rider curiously, ears cocked forward, as though trying to understand just what his rider meant to do next. Bartley expected to see the horse whirl and leave for home. But Dobe stood patiently until his rider had mounted. Bartley glanced round covertly, wondering if any one had witnessed his impromptu descent.
And you'll know for sure that I'm playing straight. You see that two-story 'dobe about half-way down the block, the one with the Mexican flag over it?" He pointed. "There's where he is. Want to go over?" "Any objections to taking me along with you?" This was Lite, coming nonchalantly toward them from the doorway.
Eden, though circumscribed by a barb-wire fence enclosing scant territory, invited him to rest and refresh himself. And all unexpected the immemorial Eve stood in the doorway of the 'dobe, gazing down the road and doubtless wondering why this itinerant Adam, booted and spurred, chose to walk the dusty highway. At the gate of the homestead Sundown paused and raised his broad sombrero.
And always when Ma came back to earth and opened her eyes there were the great smiling mountains, the clear, clean waters foaming over the rocks, and underfoot was the cool, green grass, not that hot, hard 'dobe clay she had always known. Trees, too! Beautiful whispering trees, with smooth leaves instead of burrs and spines and stickers.
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