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Updated: May 3, 2025
"Answer me!" she exclaimed in a tone of a dictator. "Then why don't you do what I ask you to do instead of giving me a story about Barb Doubleday telephoning?" he demanded. She winced at her mistake in urging an impossible thing. She felt when she made it, Laramie would not credit so wild an assertion.
Here, Bull's-eye, Smith whatever your name is I want young Batch to come up to supper with me this evening, and like a dutiful boy he says he can't come till you give him leave. What do you say?" "Don't be an ass, Doubleday!" I cried, quite ashamed and confused to stand by and hear Smith thus appealed to. "I I'm afraid I can't come this evening."
"Now then, you two," cried Mr Doubleday, looking round; "there you are, larking about as usual. Go off to your work, young Import, do you hear? and don't stand grinning there!" Poor Jack looked like anything but grinning at that moment. "I'll do the best I can," I said, "but I'm afraid Barnacle will be in a wax unless you ask him yourself." "I can't help it," said Jack, "I must go."
When Billy had gone, Mr Merrett turned to me and said, "Go to your work, Batchelor, and tell Doubleday to send Hawkesbury here." I obeyed, feeling that, after all, as far as I was concerned, the storm had blown over. Doubleday went to Hawkesbury's glass box and opened the door. "You're wanted, Hawkes Hullo!" This exclamation was caused by the discovery that Hawkesbury was not there!
Dashing from his desk, he flew at Wallop like a young wolf, and before that facetious young gentleman knew where he was he was lying at full length on the floor, and Jack standing over him, trembling with fury from head to foot. It was the work of an instant, and before more mischief could be done Doubleday had interposed.
"He may or may not be. That horse may be a stall. We've got to close in somehow on the shack and find out." A cowboy clattered up from the creek and pulled his horse to its haunches between Doubleday and Van Horn: "He's just closed the door," declared the cowboy. "The door was open when we got here wasn't it, Harry?" He pointed his finger at Van Horn in his excited appeal.
"Laramie and Doubleday were having the hottest kind of a row when I rode up. I made sure we'd be shooting in the next couple of minutes. But John Lefever was watching pretty close and holding Van Horn. Barb cooled down when he saw three of us on deck. I told him on the side, the Governor had telephoned Pearson and the Colonel was going to send cavalry down after them and they'd better scatter.
Doubleday was delegated to take charge of the business end of it, Bok himself was placed in charge of the advertising department, with the publishing details of the two periodicals on his hands. He suddenly found himself directing a stenographer instead of being a stenographer himself. Evidently his apprentice days were over.
In due time there was a sound of scuffling and protest on the stairs outside, and Doubleday reappeared dragging in Billy.
Working for Barb Doubleday; he branded mavericks for him, played dummy for his land entries, swore to false affidavits for him. Now when he turns around and steals the steers he stole for Barb, Barb has the nerve to ask me to round him up at my proper risk and run him out of the country!" Van Horn rose: "That's the answer, is it?" Laramie sat still.
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