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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Sit down!" ordered Nick, vaguely conscious that there was something in the greaser's voice that was not there before. The greaser obeyed, but not until he knew for a certainty that his voice had been heard by his master. "So you did bring in my saddle, eh, Nick?" asked the road agent, coming quickly, but unconcernedly into the room and standing behind his man.
He cursed all night.... Ha! there he comes now with your outfit." Sure enough, the Mexican appeared on the trail, leading my horses. I was so glad to see Hal that I forgot I was a prisoner. But Greaser's sullen face and glittering eyes reminded me of it quickly enough. I read treachery in his glance.
Then the rapid beat of hard hoofs on the trail was followed by several shots from the hillside. Soon the clatter of hoofs died away in the distance. "Who was thet?" asked three of Buell's men in unison. "Take it from me, Greaser's sneaked," replied Buell. "How'd he git out?" With that Bud and Bill began kicking in the piles of brush. "Aha! Hyar's the place," sang out Bud.
Stockton told the Mexican to take a look at the horses. Greaser walked within twenty feet of where I lay, and I held my breath while he passed. The others rolled in their blankets. It was now so dark that I could not distinguish anything outside of the campfire circle. But I heard Greaser's soft, shuffling footsteps as he returned. Then his dark, slim figure made a shadow between me and the light.
"Don't I love all dagos?" asked Monkey. "Sich a pretty little way with 'em they got. Same as a baa-lamb in the meadow 'mong the buttercups." "Then now I'll tell you something for yourself," said Joses. "He loves all the English owners, jockeys, and crowd. But he loves you best." "Never!" cried Monkey, greatly moved. "Then I'm the man what won the Greaser's Heart. It's too much."
He was one of many in charge of cattle shipped up from Mexico and down from the States. All the white cattle men, the gringos, held him in great contempt. But, continued Harris, speaking deliberately with his beautifully modulated voice, and his eyes twinkling with the memory of the thing, 'I soon found that the greaser's contempt for the gringos was immeasureably greater than their's for him.
"Right you are, pard!" agreed Sonora; but at the door he called back to the greaser: "Come on, you oily, garlic-eatin', red-peppery, dog-trottin', sunbaked son of a skunk!" "Come on, you . . .!" came simultaneously from the Deputy, now untying the rope which bound the prisoner. The greaser's teeth were chattering; he begged: "One dreenk I freeze . . ."
Then she spoke; not passionately, but with a hard, cruel delivery which sent a shiver thrilling through her companion's body and left her shuddering. "'Aunt' Margaret, I swear by all that's holy that I'll never marry that scum. Say, I'd rather follow a round-up camp and share a greaser's blankets than wear all the diamonds Lablache could buy.
Higher yet, an' hold 'em there," purred a soft voice from the other end of the room, where Dick Martin smiled pleasantly upon them and wondered if there was anything on earth harder to pound good common sense into than a "Greaser's" head. His gun was blue, but it was, nevertheless, the most prominent part of his make-up, even if the light was poor.
Mary told you about that before the telephone went dead." "The wire was cut," muttered Stratton. "That must have been the greaser's work." She gave a quick nod. "Very likely. He's equal to anything. They met just outside the door and talked together. It seemed as if they'd never leave off whispering. Mary was over by the telephone and I stood here.
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