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"A fore-shortened bedildo! It ain't well yet." "Can a man run fast with one of them?" inquired Willie. "Certainly, cer-tain-ly provided, of course, that the percentage of spelldiffer in the blood offsets it." Both cowboys came closer now, and hung eagerly upon every word. "And does it do that?" they questioned, while Fresno suggested that it was not easy to tell without bleeding the patient.
Chapin and his friends were swayed by their heart-beats, while even Fresno was balanced upon his toes, his plump face eager. The click of Willie's gun sounded sharp as he cocked it. Into the ear close by his cheek Speed again whispered an agonized "Don't forget to fall down!" This time the cook of the Centipede leaped backward with an angry snarl, while the crowd took breath.
As Justice Field was proceeding north from Los Angeles to San Francisco to hold court there, he got out for breakfast at Fresno. Unfortunately the Terrys reached the same station on another train at the same time. Justice Field and Neagle, the deputy marshal, got out of the train, went into the restaurant and sat down. When Judge and Mrs. Terry came in and Mrs.
There was a slight movement in the bed. Both men started for the door; and the next minute it closed very decidedly on the member from Fresno. The Hon. Pratt C. Gashwiler, M.C., was of course unaware of the incident described in the last chapter.
The victim of the accident humbly replied: "I couldn't help it." Mrs. Allen smoothed out the differences by declaring: "What's the difference, she wouldn't have guessed, not in a million years stand away and let her see it." Fresno swept them all aside with the blanket. "Oh, isn't it beautiful, beautiful!" cried Echo.
He had one that hung down like a dewlap." "Phony!" "I've killed men for less," muttered the stoop-shouldered man. "Did you see his legs?" Fresno was bent upon convincing his hearers. "Couldn't help but see 'em in that runnin'-suit." "Nice and soft and white, weren't they?" "They didn't look like dark meat," Stover agreed, reluctantly. "But you can't go nothin' on the looks of a feller's legs."
The gun he stuck in his belt; the rifle he leaned against a branch. "Sandy'll plug Old Miles in jest another minnit," remarked Fresno. "What's this other game?" queried Frank, curiously. "It's gold, Frank gold," replied Fresno; and in few words he told his comrade about Horn's buried treasure. But he did not mention the condition under which the girl would reveal its hiding-place.
Tom Clark might be limited in knowledge of his family as he was in education, but he was certainly literal and picturesque. He spared neither himself nor his brothers and sisters, nor his remoter cousins. The one whose career seemed to interest him most was that Stan Clark, the politician, who now represented Fresno County in the State Legislature.
The cattle were on their feet browsing the short, sweet grass, moving slowly toward the river. "Work," growled Show Low, "darn me if I ain't commenced to hate it." Fresno picked up his saddle to follow his foreman, but paused long enough to fire this parting shot at the cook: "Say, Parenthesis, if them biscuits you're makin' is as hard as the last bunch, save four of 'em for me.
"For her pop was a-chasin' us, and kept it up for twenty miles after the parson said 'Amen." "Did he ketch you?" asked Fresno, with great seriousness. "He sure did," answered Allen, with a twinkle in his eye, "an' thanked me for takin' Josephine off his hands." The boys laughed. The joke was upon themselves, as they had expected to hear a romantic story of earlier days.
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