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One of them broke away from the group, and ran into the inn. "Wonder who's roddin' this outfit," Kirby remarked. "That fella's gone to rout him out. Do your talkin' like a short-trigger man, Drew." They pulled rein in front of the inn and sat their horses facing the door through which the soldier had disappeared.
It's got hard work beat to a mush, because when you're ramblin' you're 'most always hungry. Listen! Love is when you ain't satisfied. So is a empty stomach. A fella's got to eat. Do you get that?" "Yes. But, Red, you said you loved a woman once. You didn't forget." "No, kid. I didn't. Once I didn't do nothin' else but remember. I got over that.
Burlingame, y'r anner, the minute I first saw him, sez I, 'Askatoon's no safe place for me. Whin wan like that gits a footin' in a place, the locks can't be too manny to shut ye in whin ye want to sleep at night. That fella's got no pedigree, and if it wouldn't hurt some dacent woman, maybe, I'd say he was misbegotten.
Mebby a cup of water would be enough for a fella, but when he's dry he sure likes to see lots ahead even if he can't drink it all. Mebby it's jest knowin' it's there that kind o' eases up a fella's thirst. I dunno." Romance, as romance was wont to do at intervals, lay in wait for the weary Sundown.
If your wife's pettin' and feedin' somethin', and callin' it them there smooth Spanish names, a fella's wise to do the same. It helps things along." "Little Billy, for instance," suggested Corliss. "Leetle Billy is right! But he couldn't help bein' good-lookin', I guess. He's different. Fust thing your wife said wuz he took after his pa." "You haven't changed much," said Corliss, smiling. "Me?
The Frosts had been gone a week, via Vancouver the expedition only about sixteen hours when he appeared at Gordon's tent and frankly asked to be told all that tall Southerner knew of the young soldier Morton, now gone from camp for the third, and, as Armstrong believed, the last time. "Why, that young fella's a bawn gentleman," drawled Gordon, as he offered the colonel a chair and cigar.
"Say, Billy, you need a shave," commented Overland, as the other turned to begin his journey across the desert. Winthrop grinned. "You need er decapitating," he retorted, glancing back. Then he faced the south and strode away. Overland, ascending the range, paused halfway up. "Decap-itating," he muttered. "Huh! That's a new one on me. De-cap Let's see! Somethin' to do with a fella's hat, I reckon.
"That's the way with them," said the cowboy. "They're always stickin' their irons on some other fella's stock. Don't you pay no 'tention to them." Sundown shook hands with his informant, crossed to the corner of the room, and slung his blanket-roll across his back. "Much obliged to you fellas," he said, his lean, timorous face beaming with gratitude.
"Not exactly that but hire a lawyer to prove to the judge and jury that you didn't kill him." "Then a fella's got to pay to prove he didn't do somethin' that he's arrested for, and never done?" "Often enough. And he's lucky if he has the money to do it. Think it over and let me know how you are getting along. Miss Gray will be interested also." "All right. Thanks, Doc.
It's a sure good way to get rested up; just to sit down and forget everything but the big world rollin' down to the edge of nothin'. It makes a fella's kickin' and complainin' look kind of small and ornery." "I never heard you complain, Lorry." "Huh!
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