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Updated: June 1, 2025
"A fellow had ought to get a piece of land on the river an' run some cattle of his own. Me an' Dud aim to do that." "Hmp! An' meanwhile?" "We're rip-rappin' the river for old man Wilson." Blister was pleased, but he did not say so. "Takes a good man to start on a s-shoestring an' make it go with cattle." "That's why we're going into it," Bob modestly explained. Mollie broke in.
"You'll hear that he's got more guts than any man in Washington County that he doesn't know what fear is. Then likely you'll be told it's natural enough, since he's the son of Jack Beaudry, the fighting sheriff. Ever-rybody believes that excipt you and me, Dave. We know better." "What do we know, Pat?" "We know that the bye is up against a man-size job and is scared stiff." "Hmp!
He'll have to play his own hand. Tha's reasonable. But kinda back him up when you get a chance. That notion of lettin' him lick you is a humdinger. Glad you thought of it." "I didn't think of it, an' I ain't thinkin' of it now," Dud retorted. "You blamed old fat skeezicks, you lay around figurin' out ways to make me trouble. You're worse than Mrs. Gillespie for gettin' yore own way. Hmp!
The doctor washed his hands and his tools, pulled on his coat, and came across to the patient. "Feeling like a fighting cock, are you? Ready to tackle another posse?" he asked. "Not quite." The prisoner glanced toward his guards and his voice fell to a husky whisper. "Say, Doc. Pull Cullison through. Don't let him die." "Hmp! Do my best, young fellow.
"I guess you never heard your Uncle Joe Powers talk any such foolishness." He snorted indignantly. "Hmp! The best friend labor has got is capital. If I had the say so I'd crush every labor union for the good of the working people themselves." Alice decided that the mental indigestion of the rich sat heavily upon him.
His mind flashed back to the boy he had met less than a year ago, a pallid, trembling weakling who had shriveled under the acid test of danger. He had traveled a long way since then in self-conquest. "Houck was down in the open last I seen him," Hawks said. "Did he crawl to the willows?" "I kinda helped him," Bob said, a little ashamed. "Hmp!
Don't you know better 'n to jump up trouble thataway?" "We're all right now," the younger man said. "They can't catch us." The Crees were on foot and would be out of range by the time they reached the hilltop. "Hmp! They'll come to our camp an' raise Cain. Why not? What business we got monkeyin' with their scalping sociables? It ain't neighborly." "West won't like it," admitted Morse.
He saw no reason why these strangers should run on him, to use the phrase of the country. "I don't claim my pinto's a racer, but he can travel." "Hmp!" grunted Miller skeptically. "I'm here to say he can," boasted the owner, stung by the manner of the other. "Don't look to me like no racer," Doble dissented. "Why, I'd be 'most willin' to bet that pack-horse of ours, Whiskey Bill, can beat him."
Murder me, and the law would hang you high as Haman if it ever got a chance." The provisional clause came out with a little pause between each word to stress the meaning. The drunken man caught at it to spur his rage. "Hmp! Mean you're man enough to beat the law to it?" Beaudry managed to get out a derisive laugh. "Oh, no! Not when I have a suitcase in my right hand and you have the drop on me.
"He's going to take a heap of nursing," the doctor answered, rubbing his unshaven chin dubiously with the palm of his hand. "See how the fever's climbed up even in the last half hour. That boy's going to be a mighty sick hombre." "I'm used to nursing, and Juanita is the best help I ever had, if she is a Mexican. You may trust him to us." "Hmp! I wasn't thinking of him, but of you.
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