United States or Romania ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Well, damn you both for ungrateful hounds!" grated Bud, hurt to the quick. "I hope you don't think I brought you this far to help hold me in the saddle; I made it north alone, without any mishap. I think I could have come back all right. But if you want to quit here, all right. You can high-tail it back to your outlaws " "Well, if you go 'n put it that way!"
"Well you shake off that loop and haze him back into the corral." High-Tail, having eaten the carrot, decided to go elsewhere. He backed away and blatted. Little Jim took a quick dally round a veranda post. High-Tail plunged and fought the rope. "Turn him loose!" cried Uncle Frank. "What's the matter?" said Aunt Jane, appearing in the doorway.
The cowboys broke into a coyote chorus that drowned the laughter of the crowd. "The drinks is on me!" sputtered the Mayor, when he was able to make himself heard. "Jest you boys high-tail over to the Long Horn an' I'll be along d'rectly." He turned once more to the crowd of passengers. "Come on, gents, an' have a drink on me. An' the ladies is welcome, too. Wolf River is broad in her idees.
"Hey, Yancey! If you're leading B Flight, give her the gun and high-tail it. The war's waiting!" "S'long, Hank. Luck, feller." "Get a waddle on, Mac. The war's lookin' up, eh?" "I hope to spit in your mess kit." Laughing, bantering, shouting, they climbed into their planes.
When they arrived, High-Tail had made his third round of the corral, with Jimmy still attached to the rope. Cheyenne managed to stop the calf and throw off the noose. Little Jim rose and gazed wildly around. He was one color, from head to foot and it was a decidedly local color. His jeans were torn and his cotton shirt was in rags, but his grit was unsifted.
McGee made the decision which is always reached by an airman who finds himself in unhealthy surroundings: he would simply high-tail it away from there until "the shouting and the tumult" subsided. He swung into the dark sky to the north and then dived down until he felt that any less altitude would be extremely likely to bring him afoul of some church steeple or factory smokestack.
Little Jim eased off the dally, but clung to the rope. High-Tail whirled and started for the corral. Little Jim set back on his heels, but Little Jim was a mere item in High-Tail's wild career toward freedom. A patter of hoofs in the dark, and Little Jim and the calf disappeared around the corner of the barn. Cheyenne laughed and rose, following Uncle Frank to the corral.
"I thought I told you not to rope that calf," said Uncle Frank, rising. "I didn't. I jest held my loop in front of some carrots and High-Tail shoves his head into it. Then I says, 'Whoosh! and he jumps back and I hung on." "How in Sam Hill did you get him here?" queried Uncle Frank. "Jest held a carrot to his nose and he walked along tryin' to get it."
Little Jim, meanwhile, had been raking his mind for an idea as to how he might attract attention. He disappeared. Presently he appeared in front of the veranda with the end of a long rope in his fist. He blinked and grinned. "What's on the other end of that rope?" queried Uncle Frank, immediately suspicious. "Nothin' but High-Tail."
Word Of The Day