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Updated: June 21, 2025
"I don't know what you're after, exactly, but if you think I'm so shot on for subjects that I've got to tell the folks at the next stop that I sold a fellar a pair of slippas for his gul Go 'long!" he called to his horse, and left Gregory standing in the middle of the road.
"Not after we separated this mawnin'," returned Blinky. "An' thet reminds me, pard, I've got somethin' to tell you. This fellar Hurd or Mac New as you call him has a pocketful of gold coin." "How do you know?" queried Pan bluntly. "Gus kicked his coat this mawnin', over there where Mac New had his bed, an' a pile of gold eagles rolled out. Just by accident. Gus wanted somethin' or other.
He quickly mounted the seat again, and drew in his breath. "Hold on, young fellar," cried Mose Hocker in a loud voice, "Don't risk your life a second time. I kin stand the loss of that terbacker." Randy laughed, waved his hand, and went under head foremost. The suspense was now greater than on the previous occasion. Ned began to count, and when the half minute expired his face grew pale.
Now claim jumpin' is somethin' like that. If a fellar leaves his claim for a day or a week he's liable to come back an' find some one has jumped it. I never leave mine in the daytime, an' I have witnesses to that." "Blinky, I came out here to find my dad," said Pan. "Have you ever run across him?" "Nope. Never heerd of him. I'd shore have asked aboot you."
His house, too, had drawn not a little on his capital his capital of strength, skill, and perseverance but he grudged neither time nor labor in making it the best in Oa. For a house is an important matter to a family man, even if it weren't a paying thing like vanillar, nor capable of helping a fellar along like a cow or a boat.
The fellar as walked over this patch wore boots and spurs, long rowels on 'em, too. See where they cut the mud. Here is another one, a derned sight smaller foot, and here is one that had a sharp heel. No, Cap'n, they picked up a man somewhar along the road."
Anything would be better than to go through life with a girl who didn't feel there are some things no fellar can do; and one of them, that he can't put a word like crimpy in his sonnet." "Been doing any work?" "Yes; one poem. Like to see it?" "Very much." He got up and went to a table littered all over with papers written, printed, and blank.
"Haw! Haw!" roared Jim Wells, cracking his long whip, as the stage bowled over the road. "He's a modest young fellar, Miss, a most extraordinary kind of a cowboy." And so they bandied words and laughs from one to another, while the long white road stretched ahead, and rolled behind under the wheels. The girl was plainly curious, interested, fascinated.
I went into a place what thar was a big glass full of beer painted on the winder to get a dram, and a nice- looking chap got talking to me, and perty soon he asked me to have a dram along with him. Then another fellar what was thar, he axed us if we ever played Rock-mountain euchre. He had some tickets, and he would jumble 'em up, and then we would bet yer on 'em.
That looked queer to me, an' I reckon to the rest of the crowd thar. No one overlooked the big six-shooter he packed Texas fashion. Wal, I didn't hev no idee this fellar was an Isbel until I heard Greaves call him thet. "'Isbel, said Greaves, 'reckon your money's counterfeit hyar. I cain't sell you anythin'. "'Counterfeit?
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