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Updated: May 4, 2025
I got up, but found my right shoulder almost disabled. I could not lift my arm without great pain. Yet my clothing was not torn, and bore no marks save of dust and travel. I was about to uncover and examine the damaged shoulder, when in came the owner of the hut, an honest-looking, heavy-set muleteer, who showed all his teeth in his gratification at observing my recovery.
The majority of them were heavy-set, muscular fellows, and the July night being one of sweltering heat, they were clad in the least possible raiment. The water-people of any race are rough and turbulent, and it struck Alf that to be out at midnight on a pier-end with such a crowd of wharfmen, in a big Japanese city, was not as safe as it might be.
The words printed there were "James Kinney." "I don't understand. This ain't Kinney. He is a heavy-set man with a villainous face. There's some mistake." "There ce'tainly is, but not at this end of the line. This is Kinney all right. I've seen him at Yuma. He was heading for the Mal Pais country and he died on the way. See hyer. Look at these soaked bandages.
He sat where he could watch the door, and despite his jocund pose his eyes expressed growing impatience and some anxiety. They were all well into their dessert before he called out: "Here he is!" Mrs. McFarlane could not see the new-comer from where she sat, but Berrie rose in great excitement as a heavy-set, full-faced man with short, gray mustache and high, smooth brow entered the room.
As a matter of fact, he had expected to dispose of Greer easily as a gentleman disposes of a clod-hopper. But the heavy-set boy's method of fighting was new and effective. Likewise there seemed to be a certain grim system about it. "First round is over!" called Madden. "Phwat a shame!" cried Hogan.
Not a beautiful woman, being swarthy and rather heavy-set in figure, this is what she was, as seen by Edouard Grenier: She was short and stout, but her face attracted all my attention, the eyes especially.
As they strolled across the grounds which were now rapidly being deserted, as all the aeroplanes were housed for the night, they encountered Armand Malvoise, the French driver of the mysterious Buzzard. He was a heavy-set, blue-chinned man with eyebrows that met in a black band, lending his face a perpetual scowl. "You made a fine flight this evening," cried Harry cheerfully.
Her dad and the big, heavy-set man whom he called Frank, seemed uncomfortably aware of their deficiencies and were pitiably anxious to make her feel welcome, and failed. They called her "Raine." The other two men did not call her anything at all.
"Why, no, I fed the critters and fixed up a busted stirrup." "Who was with you?" "I was plumb lonesome yesterday. This any business of yours, by the way, Em?" "Think again, Shorty. Who was with you?" The heavy-set cowpuncher helped himself to a chew of tobacco. "I told you onct I was alone. Ain't seen anybody but you for a week." "Then how did you hear yesterday was my busy day?"
"That ain't no nice way to talk," the second proclaimed. "Peebles, here, meant that them who has divides with all that hasn't." Peebles directed a hard animosity at Harry Baggs. His gaze flickered over the latter's heavy-set body and unmoved face. "Want your jaw slapped crooked?" he demanded with a degree of reservation. "No," the boy placidly replied.
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