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Updated: May 31, 2025
Last week he goes off west a ways, a-lookin' fer some winter range that won't be so crowded. He goes alone. Now, to-day his horse comes back, draggin' his lariat. We 'lowed we better come tell you. O' course, they ain't no horse gettin' away f'm Cal Greathouse, not if he's alive." The sheriff was silent for some time, looking at his visitor straight with his oxlike eyes.
Through this gate an' mind 'ow you leave 'er, f'r the wire hinclines to slip hover. Then straight along 'ere, through the pine-ridge, f'm hend to hend. You're hon the Nalrookar track, mind, t' wot time you see a gate hin the fence as you're a-kerryin' hon yer right shoulder. Gate's sebm mile f'm 'ere.
Sam worked in de fiel', an' I wuz de cook. One day Ma'y Ann, ole miss's maid, came rushin' out ter de kitchen, an' says she, ''Liza Jane, ole marse gwine sell yo' Sam down de ribber. "'Go way f'm yere, says I; 'my husban' 's free! "'Don' make no diff'ence.
"He says Am an' Lize come away f'm the dominie's putty down in the mouth, but 'fore long Amri braced up an' allowed that if he had half a dollar he'd try the squire in the mornin', an' Dick let him have it. I says to Dick, 'You're out fifty cents on that deal, an' he says, slappin' his leg, 'I don't give a dum, he says; 'I wouldn't 'a' missed it fer double the money."
'Twant all dirt them daisies tuk out. There wuz as fustclass sandstun ez my party ever shipped f'm his quarry, an' f'm his quarry docks it went." "You mean that this man connived with the contractors to misappropriate state property?" "I 'magine I do." "And your party is Shelby?" "Never said no sech thing." "It's what you imply clearly enough. Now, if you wish to help us, as you told Mr.
"Mist' Steerin'," began Piney at last; he had a long spear of sere grass in his mouth and he chewed at it argumentatively, "d'you think, I couldn't adzackly tell whut that writin' wuz a-aimin' at, but simlike f'm the way it goes on that ef the sort of thing it makes aout to happen happens onst, it oughtn't never to happen agin, hmh?" Piney's long drawn notes of rising inflection were musical.
"Can you read?" "Yes middlin'." "Write?" "Well, I've seed people could lay over me thar." "Cipher?" "Not good enough to keep store, I don't reckon, but up as fur as twelve-times-twelve I ain't no slouch. 'Tother side of that is what gits me." "Where is your home?" "I'm f'm old Shelby." "What's your father's religious denomination?" "Him? Oh, he's a blacksmith." "No, no I don't mean his trade.
"Wa'al," said David, "f'm his standpoint f'm his standpoint, I guess he did, an'," rubbing his chin with two fingers of his left hand, "it's a putty dum good standpoint too. I've ben lookin'," he added reflectively, "fer an honest man fer quite a number o' years, an' I guess I've found him; yes'm, I guess I've found him."
'I won't undertake to foller right along in your track I hain't got the req'sit speed, I says, 'but f'm now on I'll go to church reg'lar on Thanksgivin'. It was putty near Thanksgivin' time," he remarked, "an' I dunno but she thought if she c'd git me started I'd finish the heat, an' so we fixed it at that." "Of course," said John with a laugh, "you kept your promise?"
"Wa'al," said David, "we found that Chet hadn't done more 'n to give matters a lick an' a promise in most a year. He done just enough to keep up the day's work an' no more an' the upshot on't is that John's had to put in consid'able time to git things straightened out." "What a shame!" exclaimed Aunt Polly. "Keeps him f'm bein' lonesome," remarked her brother with a grin.
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