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Updated: May 2, 2025
But the mass had started, and was moving faster. Sprudell's feet went from under him, and he collapsed in a limp heap. Then he turned over and scrabbled madly with hands and feet for something that would hold. Everything loosened at his touch and joined the sliding bank of shale. He could as easily have stopped his progress down a steep slate roof. "Oh, Lord! There goes my dude!"
Lanigan leaped off the platform, not bothering with the stairs. "I'm going to wade through this grass," he yelped. "God pity the rattlesnake I locate!" A shrill voice from somewhere dared to taunt, "Pipe the dude!" Morrison smiled. He had unbuttoned his topcoat, and his evening garb, in that congress of the rough and ready, made him as conspicuous as a bird of paradise in a rookery.
One always felt that an orderly and very sociable kind of life was going on there. I picketed Dude down in a draw, and we went wandering about, looking for a hole that would be easy to dig. The dogs were out, as usual, dozens of them, sitting up on their hind legs over the doors of their houses. As we approached, they barked, shook their tails at us, and scurried underground.
But the rate at which they were impelled through the water naturally created no inconsiderable splashing, so that on emerging on the other side the dude, as well as the young ladies, were well drenched. To the great joy of Felix the contact with the water cooled the ardor of the steed, so that he resumed the journey at a far more moderate rate of speed.
Why didn't you say 'bawled out by Johnny? That'th what any of the retht of us would have said." "Well, I've lived most of my life in England. You can't expect me to talk the language yet." "I thought you were English. You've got an acthent like the fellow who plays the dude in thith show. Thay, why did you ever get into the show business?" "Well . . . well, why did you? Why does anybody?"
His markedly ornamental shoes were always polished to perfection, and his immaculate appearance gave him the nickname of "The Dude" among some. Nevertheless he was quite able on a small scale, and was well liked by many. His two closest associates, Messrs. Thomas Wycroft and Jacob Harmon, were rather less attractive and less brilliant.
Entrance to any room was from the porch. The general plan of the structure was the same as that of many cabins being built in public parks and dude ranches. Davy had not seen these. His comparisons were with the fine, substantial inn, built at Old Faithful. There was little furniture in the cabin.
The other, who, not finding Bailey's measured remarks very gripping, was allowing her gaze to wander idly around the room, has this claim to a place in the scheme of things, that she had a wordless part in the comedy in which Percy Shanklyn had appeared as the English dude and was on terms of friendship with him.
They too were quiet but filled with suppressed rage, and muttered their resentment at the insult to, what they called, "their" flag. Before the car I was in had started, a dapper little fellow he would be called a dude at this day stepped in.
"I am going to fight this this fellow a duel, pistols at ten paces," answered Felix, firmly. "Felix!" she gasped. "You will not, you cannot fight. For my sake, do not." "Clara," answered the dude, smiling affectionately upon her. "For your sake I would forego any personal gratification, but I must not suffer a stain upon the honor." "Well said!" exclaimed the major. "Felix is behaving well.
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