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Updated: May 23, 2025
"But with their own people they're great speech-makers." "G'wan," objected Buck Higgins. "Who ever heard of a Injun talkin' much." "Yes, siree," Bill declared. "They're great talkers 'mongst folks they knows and trusts. Why, at their pow-wows they're reg'lar orators. Ev'body knows that what's had a lot t' do with 'em, same as me.
Heads it was, and Bud leaned from the saddle and recovered the coin, Smoky turning his head to regard his rider tolerantly. "Right hand goes and we camp at the first good water and grass. I can grain the three of you once more before we hit a town, and that goes for me, too. G'wan, Smoke, and don't act so mournful."
"I believe the darned old reprobate was lyin' to us," he remarked, when the horseman disappeared into a coulee. "You sure ought to be qualified to recognize the symptoms," grunted Cal Emmett, kicking his foot out of somebody's carelessly coiled rope on the ground. "That your rope, Happy? No wonder you're always on the bum for one. If you'd try tying it on your saddle " "Aw, g'wan.
The man held in his left hand, thrust clumsily behind him, a third bottle, half empty. "You, too!" shouted Conniston. "Drop that bottle, and drop it quick!" The cook, with a drunken assumption of dignity, tried to straighten up, grasping his bottle the more firmly. "Who're you?" he leered. "G'wan; chase yourself. I ain't throwin' away " He did not finish.
I never saw you before in my life!" said the Judge, annoyed and exasperated to the rare point where his temper overcame his language. "G'wan Jimmy, you little josher! You'll be round chuckin' me under the chin before the lights come on. Gee! There goes the bell again!
The gun just went off crooked, and grazed Jap Kemp's hand a little, not much. Jap knocked it out of the sick man's hand just as he was pullin' the trigger. Say, Ma, ain't you got any more of those cucumber pickles? It makes a man mighty hungry to do all that riding and shooting. Well, it certainly was something fierce Say, Miss Earle, you take that last piece o' pie. Oh, g'wan! Take it!
Because of what he knew they gave him two hundred men at a time and made him company commander, without insignia or official position. In rank, he was only a "gob" like the rest of them. In influence a captain. Moran knew how to put the weight lunge behind the bayonet. It was a matter of balance, of poise, more than of muscle. Up in the front of his men, "G'wan," he would yell.
"G'wan!" snorted Murphy. "How's Cappy Ricks, the old villain?" "He's fine, Mike. He wanted me to work for him, but I don't like his general manager Mr. Olson, full speed ahead or you'll smash our stern against this barkentine. Steady! That's better. Astern a trifle. Steady! Mike, how've you been since I saw you last?"
"Ye niver do think." "It never occurred to me " "G'wan!" said the master of the house. "Up an alley!" Mr. Galer departed. "And I asked them," said Mr. McEachern, "I asked them particularly not to send me a rube!" He lit another cigar, and began to brood over the folly of mankind.
"I will not be insulted by yez," Mr. Quilty retorted with equal gravity. "I will consider the soorce from which ut comes. G'wan out of here, before I do yez injury." Immediately after dinner Casey brought up his road team, two wiry, slashing chestnuts. The Wades occupied the rear seat. Clyde sat beside Casey. The horses started with a rush that brought a gasp from Mrs. Wade.
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