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Updated: May 22, 2025
What I mean is, indoors here there's no one to pull us up that I can see." "Oh! I see what you mean," said Pil. "Yes, you're about right there." "Gully, you know," continued Cusack "Gully's no good as master of a house; he's always grubbing over his books. Bless his heart! it doesn't matter to him whether we cut one another's throats!" "Not it!
Yorke bent down and, drawing back a fold of the blanket, exposed two still white faces. In the centre of Hornsby's forehead all beheld Gully's terrible sign-manual. Wade had been shot through the throat. "Hornsby!" gasped Yorke brokenly, "poor old Gus Hornsby!" . . . He turned a tired, drawn face up to Slavin's. "He was with us in the Yukon, Burke.
It was rather exacting, monotonous work, necessitating cautious and leisurely progress; but they stuck to it doggedly until sometime later they rounded a bend in the river and came within sight of Gully's ranch, about a mile distant. Presently that gentleman pulled up and swung out of saddle. "Half a minute," he said, "my saddle's slipping! I want to tighten my cinch." The small cavalcade halted.
Yorke stepped warily to the side and covered the door with his weapon. A few tense moments passed, and then Slavin rapped again. Heavy footfalls now sounded, approaching the door from the inside, halted, and then, through the panels came Gully's hollow, booming bass: "Who's there?" "Shlavin of th' Mounted Police, Gully. Opin up! we wud shpake wid ye." "What do you want?
When he had gone a few feet he was up to his waist and it cost him an effort to keep his feet. After two or three more steps, the bottom fell away and, floundering savagely, he sank to his shoulders. Then his companion pulled him back. "The gully's there all right," the man remarked when they clambered out. "Say, that water's surely cold."
And now, guided by that old pioneer, Inspector Kilbride arrived upon the scene with an armed party from the Post. They had been rushed up by a special train, which had been flagged by MacDavid at the nearest objective point to Gully's ranch. Swiftly and warily they skirmished towards their objective.
His grim face wore a terribly ruthless expression just then. "My God!" he groaned out from between clenched teeth, "but I will put th' third degree tu um, an' make um come across this toime! Saddle up, bhoys! while I go an' hitch up T an' B. Damnation! I wish Gully's place was on the phone!"
Looming up dark and forbidding ahead of them they beheld the all-familiar sight of the huge, shadowy thicket of pine and Balm o' Gilead clumps that fringed the west end of Gully's ranch. Entering its gloomy depths, they felt their way slowly and cautiously along the stump-dotted trail.
Roaring out like stricken bulls, cursing their master in all tongues, they began to storm the cliff-side nimbly and to run for the shelter of the woods; but some fell and rolled backward to the sand, some turned on their own knives and lay dead at the gully's foot; while those who gained the summit stood all together, and wailing their doleful song they yelled defiance at Czerny's ship.
Dey were a chinaberry tree close to de door an' Walter got b'hin' it an' fired a pistol. Mr. Dabbs were hit wid his arm a-layin' 'crost de counter wid his pistol in his han'. "'Me an' Mr. An' he died dat night. De word jus' kinda got' roun' dat some of de Chisolm crowd done killed Mr. Gully's clerk. "'Walter run off to Memphis. Mr. Gully were pursuin' after 'im to ketch 'im.
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