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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.
On his way home that day the hilarity of Mr. Spriggins was unbounded. Even the canine denizens of the district through which he passed received compliments of no secondary order, and to quote his own expression "he was the happiest fellar between town and Mill Crossin'." But we must return to Mr. Verne. About an hour after Mr.
Then Sunday that fellar what committed suicide out south I read about in the papers came to see him in a car. I got a boy workin' in his factory; that's how I come to know who the guy was. The next night Hobart, an' them with him, just naturally skipped out. So I didn't know but what the police might want him for something." "I don't know anything about that. I just called on a private matter.
He hadn't no more nor got the words out of his mouth when Rau ripped out there was a canoe coming off, and we all ran pellmell for the rail. Sure enough, there was an outrigger aiming straight for us, and the fellar in it was bent double and paddling that fast that the water spurted at the bow like it was a race.
"Columbine, not so long ago you told me this fellar wasn't sweet on you. An' do you still say that to me are you still insistin' he ain't in love with you?" "He never said so I never believed it ... and now I'm sure he isn't!" "Ahuh! Wal, thet same day you was jest as sure you didn't care anythin' particular fer him. Are you thet sure now?" "No!" whispered Columbine, very low.
"I barked him as he was runnin' like a streak through the bushes, an' judged that he was hard hit. I got the hosses, an' turned back on the trail of the white man." "Where did it end?" "In that hard-packed path near the blacksmith shop. An' the fellar steps as light as an Injun." "He's here, then, sure as you're born.
"Bo, will you listen to me if I swear to speak the truth as I know it?" "Why, certainly," replied Bo, with the color coming swiftly to her face. "Roy doesn't want me to know because he wants to meet thet fellar himself. An' I want to know because I want to stop him before he can do more dirt to us or our friends. Thet's Roy's reason an' mine. An' I'm askin' YOU to tell me."
"Wal, all I say is thet you was wastin' yore breath," declared Lem. "You're a queer fellar, Wade." "Queer? Aw, Lem, he ain't queer," said Montana. "He's jest white. Wade, I feel the same as you. I'd like to do somethin' fer thet locoed Buster Jack." "Montana, you're the locoed one," rejoined Lem. "Buster Jack knows what he's doin'. He can play a slicker hand of poker than you." "Wal, mebbe.
To their surprise Jim did not duck back at their return volley but fended off a couple of the shots with his forearm, and one he caught with his right hand as though it were a baseball, and hurled it back with a snappy, short arm throw that caught the thrower squarely on the thigh. "Hurrah for you, fellar!" yelled the crowd. Jim acknowledged the salute with a graceful wave of his hand.
"Fush!" returned the husband; "Allen is good for a dozen Indians, and there are plenty more of us to help him. But don't you be scared; the red-skins know us too well to risk a fight. They'll only prowl around and steal a little beef, and shoot at a fellar unaware, from under kiver that's all they'll venter on you can depend on that!"
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