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Updated: May 19, 2025
is a Colt's forty-four, an' instead of sayin' `Poppa! he onhooks the same at Billy direct, now I don't reckon Billy could have been more put out. 'Doby's wife drags Willyum along at the time like he's a calf goin' to be branded, an' she never halts or pauses.
Taking advantage of this generous concession, Mr. Botcher hastily locked the door, and led the way up the stairway to number seventy-five. After a knock or two here, the door opened a crack, disclosing, instead of General Doby's cherubic countenance, a sallow face with an exceedingly pointed nose. The owner of these features, having only Mr.
"What's the matter with seeing him now?" Mr. Crewe demanded. "I know Manning. He's the division superintendent, isn't he?" Mr. Botcher and Mr. Bascom exchanged glances. "Why, yes " said Mr. Bascom, "yes, he is. He's a great friend of General Doby's, and their wives are great friends." "Intimate friends, sir," said the Honourable Jake "Well," said Mr. Crewe, "we won't bother 'em but a moment."
Perhaps it was jealousy on General Doby's part, and a selfish desire to occupy the centre of the stage himself, but at any rate we will pass hastily over the disagreeable portions of this narrative. Mr. Crewe settled himself with his feet extended, and with a complacency which he had rightly earned by leaving no stone unturned, to listen.
Billy can't get out none, for his laig is a heap fragmentary as yet, 'Doby's bullet gettin' all the results which is comin' that time, but he sends 'Doby word by Peets, if he hears of any more punishments bein' meted to Willyum, he regards it as a speshul affront to him, an' holds 'Doby responsible personal as soon as he can hobble.
It goes on ontil mighty likely fifth-drink time that forenoon, an' as Billy don't see no trace, sign, nor signal-smoke of his pard, he gets oneasy. "'It's a fact, says Billy afterward, 'thar's hours when I more'n half allows this yere squaw of 'Doby's has done took a knife, or some sech weepon, an' gets even with 'Doby, while he sleeps, for me pluggin' her paw about the mule.
It was the rustic enthusiasm, Westholt explained, which had in a manner spread her fame. One heard enlightening and illustrative anecdotes of her. He related several well worth hearing. She had evidently a sense of humour and unexpected perceptions. "One detail of the story of old Doby's meerschaum," Westholt said, "pleased me enormously.
Mount Dunstan, after standing upon the hearth for a few minutes smoking a pipe, which would have compared ill with old Doby's Sunday splendour, left his coffee cup upon the mantel and began to tramp up and down out of the dim light into the shadows, back out of the shadows into the poor light. "You know," he said, "what I think about most things you know what I feel." "I think I do."
"What's the matter with seeing him now?" Mr. Crewe demanded. "I know Manning. He's the division superintendent, isn't he?" Mr. Botcher and Mr. Bascom exchanged glances. "Why, yes " said Mr. Bascom, "yes, he is. He's a great friend of General Doby's, and their wives are great friends." "Intimate friends, sir," said the Honourable Jake "Well," said Mr. Crewe, "we won't bother 'em but a moment."
Taking advantage of this generous concession, Mr. Botcher hastily locked the door, and led the way up the stairway to number seventy-five. After a knock or two here, the door opened a crack, disclosing, instead of General Doby's cherubic countenance, a sallow face with an exceedingly pointed nose. The owner of these features, having only Mr.
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