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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Come on come on to the bank! We'll fix it!" Ephraim found that Casper Silence was very much in earnest. There was no bluff about the man's proposal to bet ten thousand dollars, and Gallup was not the sort of chap to back down after making such talk.
Badger has a right jolly way of calling me angel sometimes, but, on my word, I can't discover even a pimple of a wing anywhere about me. But, say, people, however is it I find you all here together? Wherever are you bound for?" "Bloomfield," answered Barney and Ephraim, in chorus. "We're taking Carker along with us," explained Gallup. "We're all going to see old Frank at Bloomfield, by jinks!"
"Oi think he's becomin' acquainted wid himself." "Yeou ain't gut nuthin' to say!" snapped Eph. "Yeou wanted to make a bet with Mr. Silent, didn't ye?" "Oi did," nodded Barney. "Av it hadn't been for Frankie to kape me sinsible, Oi'd cracked up me money on the shpot. It's Frankie whot's got the livel head, Gallup. The rest av us are chumps, begobs!" "I guess, by gum, that's correct!" nodded Eph.
To strike into the Painted Desert, you can leave the beaten highway at Gallup, or Holbrook, or Flagstaff, or the Grand Cañon; but to cross it, you should enter at the extreme east and drive west, or enter west and drive east. Local liverymen have drivers who know the way from point to point; and the charge, including driver, horses and hay, is from $6 to $7 a day.
Those men are professionals, and they're not in our class. It's evident Silence is a gambler. Gambling ruins any sort of a game. The man who bets money is liable to take 'most any questionable advantage in order to win. Betting is bad business anyway you look at it. It ruins a man's fine principles." "Yeou don't think that allus happens, do ye, Frank?" asked Gallup.
I might even be of some slight use," and she smiled at him till his own slow smile responded, troubled and amazed though he evidently was by her determination. "I've roughed it a good deal with daddy-prof. I can cook some things. And I can do housework " "Bet Gallup does that," interposed Cap'n Abe, finally getting his bearings. "Hi-mighty, ye did take me aback all standin', Niece Louise!
He went on, reading bits to the interested listeners now and then, and finally handed the letter to Cap'n Joab Beecher. The latter, looking mighty queer indeed, adjusted his spectacles and spread out the sheet. "Ye-as," he admitted cautiously. "That 'pears to be Cap'n Abe's handwritin', sure 'nough." "Course 'tis!" squealed Washy Gallup. "As plain, as plain!"
They wandered back to the store on the Shell Road. There was a chill in the fall air and Cap'n Abe had built a small fire in the rusty stove. About it were gathered the usual idlers. A huge fishfly droned on the window pane. "It's been breedin' a change of weather for a week," said Cap'n Joab. "Right ye air, sir," agreed Washy Gallup, wagging his head.
The cattle were intentionally bedded loose; but even in the starlight and waning moon, every man easily spotted the ladino beef, uneasily stalking back and forth like a caged tiger across the bed ground. A half hour before dawn, he made a final effort to escape, charging out between Gallup and the vaquero following up on the same side.
"I'm very much obliged, gentlemen very much obliged," said Silence, bowing to Mulloy and Gallup. "I hope I haven't interfered with you, Mr. Merriwell." "Not in the least," answered Frank. "Do you think we'll have good weather for the game to-morrow?" "The indications are that the weather will be all right." "And are you still confident that we will be able to bring out a thousand people or more?"
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