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Updated: June 29, 2025
"What's the difference? Hellsfire! Whisky! Let's get a drink. It's whisky I want." "Shore. I told you thet a while back. Come on, pard. It's red-eye fer us!" They crossed to the corner saloon, a low dive kept by a Chinaman and frequented by Mexicans and Indians. These poured out pellmell as the cowboys jangled up to the bar. Jard Hardman's outfit coming to town had prepared the way for this.
"Well, I don't want you to think we're trying to get out of work, Chief's Assistant," one of the deputies said, "but is there any real necessity for our trying to locate the Wizard Trader time lines? If you can get them from the Esaron Sector, it'll be the same, won't it?" "Marv, in this business you never depend on just one lead," Ranthar Jard told him.
"I wish we could have made a boomerang-ball reconnaissance," Ranthar Jard was saying, watching one of the viewscreens, in which a film, taken from an airboat transposed to an adjoining Abzar sector time line, was being shown. The boat had circled over the Ganges, a mere trickle between wide, deeply cut banks, and was crossing a gullied plain, sparsely grown with thornbush.
That's strange. Does he own the jail?" "Huh! Hardman owns this heah whole damn burg." "Nix," spoke up Blinky. "Don't fool yourself there, pardner. Jard Hardman has a long string on Marco, I'll admit, but somebody's goin' to cut it." Brown had an interesting account to give of his meeting with Dick Hardman down at Yellow Mine.
Also the more she flouted Dick the wilder he drank and gambled. Now here comes the pitiful part of it. Jim Blake went utterly to the bad, so your father says, though Lucy hopes and believes she can save him. I do too. Jim was only weak. Jard Hardman ruined him. Finally Dick enlisted his father in his cause and they forced Jim to try to make Lucy marry Dick. She refused.
I only hope we don't have another Prole insurrection while they're away " "Well, don't think I'm trying to argue policy with you," Ranthar Jard said, "but that could raise a dreadful stink on Home Time Line. Especially on top of this news-break about the slave trade." "We'll have to take a chance on that," Vall said. "If you're worried about what the book says, forget it.
The young Count has a right to do as he pleases; and so long as he does not owe you a half-penny, you have no right to say a word." Mlle, Armande held out her hand, and the notary kissed it respectfully. "Good Chesnel! . . . But, my friend, how shall we find the money for this journey? Victurnien must appear as befits his rank at court." "Oh! I have borrowed money on Le Jard, mademoiselle."
It'll cut out profits." "No, it'll increase them. One good rider means a great deal to us." "Then let's get thet miner, Charley Brown." "But he's working a gold claim." "Wal, if I know anythin' he'll not be workin' it any longer than findin' blue dirt. Gus an' me seen Jard Hardman with two men ridin' out thet way this mawnin'." "Ah!... So Hardman is here now.
"I despise Dick Hardman. He's stingy, conceited, selfish. He's low down, and he's sinking to worse." "His father ruined mine," Pan told her. "That's what brought Dad out here to try to get something back from Jard Hardman. No use. He only got another hard deal." "That cowboy who was in here with you last night Blinky Moran. His claim was jumped by Hardman."
"That's something the Mavrad of Mnirna and Thalvabar never forgets," Jandar Jard drawled, with what, in a woman, would have been cattishness. Thalvan Dras gave him a hastily repressed look of venomous anger, then said something, more to Verkan Vall than to Jandar Jard, about titles of nobility being the marks of social position and responsibility which their bearers should never forget.
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