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Updated: June 22, 2025
The hood of this buggy was up, upon which fact it being a May morning of rollicking wind and sunshine Dr. Lavendar speculated to his companion: "Daniel, the man in that vehicle is either blind and deaf, or else he has something on his conscience; in either case he won't mind our dust, so we'll cut in ahead at the watering-trough. G'on, Goliath!"
"You see how it is," Racey indicated to the man on the ground. "It's the lady's dog. You can go now." The burly youth stared stupidly. "You heard what I said," Racey told him, impatiently. "G'on. Go some'ers else. Get outa here." "Say," remarked the burly youth in what was intended to be a menacing growl, "this party ain't over yet."
"If the cayuse does happen to hit yore head, it won't hurt yore thick skull. G'on, Bill, be a sport." "Be a sport yoreself," returned Bill Allen, skipping into the bunkhouse. "Where's the other scissors? I'll finish this job myself." Racey, left alone with Rod Rockwell, smiled slightly. "Bill ain't got a sense of humour this mornin'," he observed, softly. "He must 'a' thought I meant it."
"And what didja think I'd be doin' alla time?" grinned Swing Tunstall. "You wouldn't 'a' tried to knife me, anyway." "G'on. He didn't." "Oh, didn't he? You better believe he did. If I hadn't got a holt of his wrist and whanged him over the head with my Colt for all I was worth he'd 'a' had me laid out cold. Yep, li'l Mr. Luke Tweezy himself.
His face became a totally different countenance with the expression of settled and unrelenting indignation, which his words called out. 'G'on, man, g'on, said Daniel, impatient with Donkin for the little delay occasioned by the necessity of arranging his work more fully.
At dusk he led Whitey to a broad common at the edge of town, and spoke to him finally. "G'on 'bout you biz'nis," said Abalene; "you ain' MY hoss. Don' look roun'at me, 'cause I ain't got no 'quaintance wif you. I'm a man o' money, an' I got my own frien's; I'm a-lookin' fer bigger cities, hoss. You got you biz'nis an' I got mine. Mista' Hoss, good-night!"
Then his cold eyes returned to the face of Luke Tweezy who was beginning to look extremely wretched. "Underneath the signature of Dale," continued the Judge, "somebody has copied that signature some fifty or sixty times. I wonder why." "I dunno anything about it," Luke Tweezy denied, feebly. "We'll come back to that," the Judge observed, softly. "G'on, Racey."
I hope you'll have a pleasant journey. That was all. No insincere regrets. That's one thing about me, Dr. Lavendar, I may not be perfect, but I never say anything, just to be pleasant!" "I've noticed that," said Dr. Lavendar; "G'on, Goliath." And Martha, in great spirits, told her William at tea, that, though Dr. Lavendar was failing, she had to admit he could still see people's good qualities.
"I'm cussin' the world by sections," growled Joe. "Wal, kid, you g'on up the crick, and get as near a count as you can. I'm ridin' in after men an' wagons. We'll move the camp up heah. It's the wust I ever seen, an' we'll lose a heap of stock. There's a loblolly of blue gumbo mud an' no bottom. An' by thunder we're stuck heah for Lord knows how long."
They would run close to the water's edge and yell at Read, who was pulling leisurely behind in a row boat. "Hyah, man. Doan yo' see dat ar man drownen? G'on an pick him up." "Not much, I wont pick him up." Opie shouted, "I'm going to let him drown." "Hi, Eph; git yo' boat. Drownen man in de ribber.
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