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Updated: June 16, 2025
Dropped a sitter off me to-day. Why the deuce fellows can't hold catches when they drop slowly into their mouths I'm hanged if I can see." "You play him," said Wyatt. "Just give him a trial. That kid's a genius at cricket. He's going to be better than any of his brothers, even Joe. Give him a shot." Burgess hesitated. "You know, it's a bit risky," he said.
"That kid's no stranger to the range," Mackenzie said, more to himself than to Tim, as he watched him ride off. "No, he used to be around with the cowboys on Malcolm's ranch when he was in the cattle business. He can handle a horse as good as you or me. Malcolm was the man that set me up in the sheep business; I started in with him like you're startin' with me, more than thirty years ago.
Tell them that the kid's going to be brought up right from now on. I've got him, and I'm going to keep him." Mamie had risen and was facing him, a very determined midget, pink and resolute. "I'm not going home, Mr. Winfield." "What?" "If you are going to Bill, I am coming with you." "Nonsense." "That's my place with him." "But you can't. It's impossible."
"What's doin'!" demanded a voice. "Who is it?" The voice was hoarse and authoritative, but the gruff tones were schooled, it seemed, to an almost unnatural softness. "'S all right, Micky," answered the Spider in the same subdued tone, "it's only me come for d' Kid." "Who you got wid you there, Spider?" "A pal o' mine an' d' Kid's he's all right, Mick!" Then to Ravenslee: "Come on, bo!"
If they could understand what we are saying now, they would think that you wanted the kid's body for some devilry or witchcraft business, and we should as like as not get left by them. Then who would carry your precious specimens back to the boats? I would not lift a finger to help you, and I am not over sure that I could even guide you back, if it came to that.
Crips was seated in a secluded spot on the river bank, taking stock. He possessed one very second-hand black bag and four dozen four-ounce bottles. The Kid's intention in the first place had been to dispose of the loot at the nearest marine store, but Nickie was a man of ideas, and one had come to him there in his loneliness. He hid his bag of bottles, and wandered into the city.
"He hasn't got next," reported Master Maloney. "He can't git on to me curves. Dese wop kids is all boneheads. Say, kid, look-a here." He walked out of the room and closed the door; then, rapping on it smartly from the outside, re-entered and, assuming a look of extreme ferocity, stretched out his hand and thundered: "Unbelt-a! Slip-a me da stuff!" The wop kid's puzzlement became pathetic.
The Kid had been arrested by Pat Garret and his posse a short time before at Stinking Springs, New Mexico, along with Tom Pickett, Billy Wilson and Dave Rudebough, after arresting these men which was only effected after a hard fight and after the Kid's ammunition had given out. Garret took the men heavily ironed to Los Vegas.
He just got them two hands of his on Charley Bedloe's neck, an' I thought he was goin' to break it sure. An' Charley got flung clean out in the yard before the Kid had finished going for his gun! You wouldn't believe a man could be that quick. "Quick? It wasn't nothin' to his next play. I tell you the Kid's hand was on the way to his gun an' Buck didn't have a gun on him, you'd have said.
He began at once when Margaret was seated, even before his mother could get her properly waited on. "Well, we had some ride, we sure did! The Kid's a great old scout." Margaret perceived that this was a leader. "Why, that's so, what became of you, William? I hunted everywhere for you. Things were pretty strenuous there for a while, and I needed you dreadfully." "Well, I know," Bud apologized.
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