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Updated: June 3, 2025
"I go to get the end of a story, Firio my story!" continued Jack. "I have travelled long for the story and now I shall have it all from John Prather." "Sí, sí!" said Firio, as if all the knowledge in the world had flashed into his head quicker than the hand of legerdemain could run the leaves of a pack of cards through its fingers. "And then?"
It seemed as if his sad visage, so reliably and grandly sad, might still be marching on toward the indeterminate line of the horizon when his legs were worn off his body. "Firio, you brown son of the sun," said Jack, with a sudden display of his old-time trail imagery, "you prolix, garrulous Firio, you knew!
He gave the sliver of ear an affectionate corkscrew twist before he and Firio, taking all their ammunition, crawled along the bottom of the arroyo and up the ridge where they settled down comfortably behind a ledge commanding the water-hole at easy range. "It's lucky we learned to shoot in the moonlight!" Jack whispered. "Sí"! Firio answered, in perfect understanding.
Firio surveyed the buccaneer for some time, squinting his eyes and finally opening them saucer-wide in approval. "You!" he said to Jack. And of the Sargent, after equally deliberate observation, he said: "A lady!" That seemed about all there was to say and expressed the thought of the onlookers. "And, Firio, now it's the trail!" said Jack. "Sí, sí!" said Firio, ever so softly. "We take rifles?"
"Firio and Jag Ear and Wrath of God and old P.D. here we've sort of grown used to one another's foolishness. Now I can't put it off any longer, and I'd about as soon be murdered as tell him that I am going East in the morning." "You mean you are going to leave here for good?" She mistrusted her own hearing. She was dazzled by this sudden burst of light through the clouds.
No one whosoever should wear arms in Little Rivers without a permit. The new ordinance had the Doge's approval; and Jim and Bob, both of whom had permits, kept watch that it was enforced, particularly in the case of Pedro Nogales. Meanwhile, Jack kept the ten-hour-a-day law. His alfalfa was growing with prolific rapidity, but Firio had the air of one who waits between journeys.
"Firio," he said, "this is my trail end. I am going back to New York to-morrow." "Sí!" answered Firio, without a tremor of emotion; but his eyes glowed confidently, fixedly, into Jack's. "There will be money for you, and " "Sí!" said Firio mechanically, as if repeating the lines of a lesson. Was this Indian boy prepared for the news? Or did he not care?
"What what does it mean?" Prather gasped, spasmodically. "I I was it Leddy that fired on us?" "Yes," said Jack over his shoulder, as he and Firio started up the bank of the arroyo facing the water-hole. "No doubt of it." "It was you they wanted not me not me! "I don't know. At all events, I do not mean they shall rush us!"
He had eaten it with his bread, his porridge, his dessert, and with the quail that Firio had broiled. He had even intimated his willingness to mix it with his soup. She advised him to stir it into his coffee, instead.
The hat tipped upward and under the brim-edge his black eyes gleamed, as the sandy soil all around him gleamed in the dew. He shrugged his shoulders when he recognized the lady speaking as the one who had delayed him at the foot of the pass the previous afternoon. Thanks to her, he had been left alone without his master the whole evening. "He go to stretch his legs," answered Firio.
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