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Updated: May 2, 2025
"At that, you might have to walk back, if you wagered your money on the outcome," responded the chief more gravely, turning to his desk. "Clothes don't make a man neither do they un-make one. The 'Dude' may surprise us yet."
When we reached the rim the sunrise was just flushing the purple basin, flooding with exquisite gold and rose light the slumberous shadows. What a glorious wilderness to greet the eye at sunrise! I suffered a pang to realize what men missed what I had to miss so many wonderful mornings. We had made our plan. The hounds had left a bear in the second canyon east of Dude. Edd started down.
Even as I gazed momentarily I expected to see a bear. It looked two hundred yards across the canyon from where we stood, but Copple declared it was a thousand. On our other side capes and benches and groves were bright in sunshine, clear across the rough breaks to the west wall of Dude Canyon. I saw a flock of wild pigeons below.
Evidently the major wants a fighter for a son-in-law," and Felix Gussing groaned once more. "You'll have to become a fighter," said Joe. "No! no! I am a er a man of peace!" cried the dude, in alarm. "Mr. Gussing, I think I can arrange matters for you," said Joe, struck by a certain idea. "What can you mean, Joe?" "I mean that I can prove to Major Sampson that you are a brave man."
We turned in feeling comfortably dismal, and almost wishing that we had gone down with the Dunbar. The intoxicated shearers and the dude kept their concert up till a late hour that night or, rather, a very early hour next morning; and at about midnight they were reinforced by the commercial traveller and Moses, the jeweller, who had been visiting acquaintances aft.
"'Dude'? What do you mean, 'dude'? He's no dude!" "Oh, he's so stuck on himself that he gives me the wearisome willies. Look here, other folks has been to the war. He needn't carry his chest like a blanked bay window." "Look here, Gilby, just quit swearing in this room." The cold blue eyes bored into Gilby's hot face. "I beg pardon, sir.
Still, the teacher a young East Side dude, hazel-eyed, apple-faced, and girlish of feature and voice was a talkative fellow, with oratorical proclivities, and his garrulousness was of great value to me.
Was Mr. Dude Moxley's brain muddled that he should have inserted such a gross error in his otherwise plausible little story? Perhaps he did not have time to plan it thoroughly in his hasty advance from the mill, or had calculated on finding his new victims at any other place than this.
"Don't you bite him," warned Short and Long, "for if you do right now he will sure have the hydrophobia. Take it easy, Purt cool and easy." But the dude could not. The very sight of that laughing, ragged-coated dog made his blood boil. He hunted a club with which to meet the brute when he landed. But Lance explained about the Barnacle before the Duchess came close enough for them to land.
Wilson bounced like a monkey, scratching under both armpits. "Or, or. Grick. Grick." "This is what happens when he gets to bed early," Parker said to Patrick. Mrs. Van Slyke returned. "Parker?" He rose to his feet balancing his coffee, assumed a good humored expression, and approached Mrs. Van Slyke. "Her husband's a bad dude," Wilson said. "Nothing you couldn't handle." His live eye gleamed.
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