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Updated: June 20, 2025
"I was gonna say you must be mistaken, Mr. Crawford," he whined. Shorty laughed hardily, spat tobacco juice at a knot in the floor, and spoke again. "Third degree stuff, eh? It won't buy you a thing, Crawford. Miller wasn't in that hold-up any more'n I " "Let Miller do his own talkin', Shorty. He don't need any lead from you." Shorty looked hard at the cattleman with unflinching eyes.
"Yo're " began the 88 manager, and stopped suddenly. "What was you gonna say?" Alicran's voice cut sharply across the general silence. Lanpher controlled himself by an effort. Or perhaps it was not such an effort, after all. It may have been that he remembered the object lesson of the severed branch of the wild currant bush.
"You wouldn't, but you did. Don't stall, Hull. We've got you right." The rancher from Dry Valley broke in venomously. "You bet we have, you rotten crook. I'll pay you back proper for that deal you an' Cunningham slipped over on me. I'm gonna put a rope round yore neck for it. I sure am. Why, you big fat stiff, I was standin' watchin' you when you knocked out Cunningham with the butt of yore gun."
Sam was still grinning, but there was a curve of lip which was far from any real humor, even that provoked by the practical jokes of a barracks bully. "One of them kids had been sayin’ as how he rode with Forrest, regular li’l red-hot Reb, he is. Stomp all over us ... that’s what you Rebs has been promisin’ to do, ain’t it? Gonna stomp all over any Blue Bellies as comes into this town?
They’d all lie their heads off to git a trooper into trouble. Wouldn’t you now?" The lanky man sidled along the bar to snarl at Fowler. "Stevens, shut that big mouth of yours, an’ I ain’t gonna say that agin! All right, Fowler, tell me what you saw!" Fowler slid the shotgun out of sight, apparently sure that an armistice, at least, was assured.
I ain't got the pep I used to have. Not but what J. Eddie Schwirtz can still sell goods, but I can't talk up to the boss like I could once. I gotta feel some sympathy at the home office. And I by God deserve it way I've worked and slaved for that bunch of cutthroats, and now Sure, that's the way it goes in this world. I tell you, I'm gonna turn socialist!" "Ed listen, Ed.
"That ain't a reason, no good reason, anyway. I'm telling you flat, y' understand, that so long as we gotta take root here instead of going to Arizona like we'd planned it out so long's yo're gonna renig on the play like I say, the best thing we can do is string our chips with Jack Harpe's." "That yore idea of a bright thing to do, huh?" questioned Racey, his nimble fingers busy with the rawhide.
Soon as it gets dark we'll travel south. She's gonna be my wife. You can take the kid back to the road an' leave him there." Again the Mexican lifted hands and shoulders while he pattered volubly, trying to make himself heard above the cries of the child. Dug had silenced Joyce by the simple expedient of clapping his big hand over her mouth. Doble's other hand went into his pocket.
"I couldn't help it, could I? I ain't got eyes in the back of my head so's I can see round corners an' through doors. How'd I know Old Man Dale was gonna slide off? When I left him he was all so happy with his bottle you'd 'a' thought he'd took root for life. Anyway, Peaches Austin oughta come before the old man left. He was supposed to come, and he didn't.
Everything figured out by slide rules an' such it's civilized, but it ain't human! What everybody oughta be is a connoisseur of chaos, like me. Quit worryin' an' get outside and pick up that security guy the Major was gonna send to meet you!"
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