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Updated: June 3, 2025
"A wolf makes a noise before it jumps," he whispered, "and that warnin' is all the light I need." Now their eyes grew somewhat accustomed to the dark and Haw-Haw could make out, vaguely, the posts of the stalls to his right. He could not tell whether or not some animal might be lying down between the posts, but Mac Strann, pausing at every stall, seemed to satisfy himself at a glance.
There was not enough wind to blow the flames from this barn to one of the neighbouring sheds; all they could do was to stand still and watch the progress of the conflagration. The deep, thick voice of Mac Strann broke in: "Start prayin', Haw-Haw, that the hoss don't kill Barry when he gets to him. Start prayin' that Barry is left for me to finish."
Confederates? protested Macpherson with admirably simulated surprise. 'I must say you use extraordinary terms, Mr Mr What did you say the name was? 'Haw-haw, roared Hale. 'His name is Monsieur Valmont. 'I implore you, Mr. Hale, to leave this man to me for a very few moments. Now, Macpherson, what have you to say in your defence?
So long as things went his way he was a prince, right there with the jolly haw-haw, fond of callin' wifey pet names before strangers, and posin' as an easy mark, but let anybody try to pull off any programme that didn't jibe with his, and black clouds rolled up sudden in the West. "I do hope," goes on Ferdie, "that nothing of that sort occurs while we are here."
Pale Annie regarded him with grave disapproval. "My friend," he said solemnly, "liquor is the real root of all evil. For my part, I quench my thirst with water. They's a tub over there in the corner with a dipper handy. Don't mention it." "I didn't thank you," said Haw-Haw Langley furiously. "Damn a tight-wad, say I!"
"Then," said Mac Strann, "I got to leave the buryin' to other men what I'll hire. Me I've got business on hand. Where did Barry run to?" "He ain't run," cried Haw-Haw, choking with a strange emotion. "The fool the damned fool! is waiting right down here in O'Brien's bar for you to come. He's darin' you to come!" Mac Strann made no answer.
It was only one foot that was caught; but that was enough. He could not get away no matter how hard he pulled. It was old Mr. Crow who had called "Stop, thief!" He was laughing now. His "Haw-haw! haw-haw!" could be heard plainly enough, as he flapped away in great glee, to tell all the forest-people that Tommy Fox would trouble them no more. Tommy Fox was in a terrible fix.
Then all I've got to do is defend myself." Haw-Haw Langley twisted up his face and laughed, silently, to the red-stained sky. The black head of Barry, the brown head of Randall Byrne, the golden head of Kate Cumberland, were all bowed around the limp body of Black Bart. Buck Daniels, still gasping for breath, stood reeling nearby. "Let me attempt to resuscitate the animal," offered the doctor.
When he was presented with a cigar, he gave an exposition of the walk and conversation of an extremely haughty aristocrat, and, on his saying, "Please don't haddress me as Bill. Say 'Hahdeyedoo, Colonel," the burly mob raised such a haw-haw as never was heard elsewhere, and big fellows doubled themselves up out of sheer enjoyment, the fun was so exquisite.
"D'ye hear?" muttered Mac Strann. "It's the hoss talkin' to his master!" "And there he comes!" said Haw-Haw Langley. "Runnin' like the wind!" The flame, picked up by the gale, tore for itself a wider breathing space through the roof and sent up an audibly roaring column of blinding red.
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