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Her eyes shone; she chatted volubly of the inconsequent happenings of her small world since the Kid's last visit; it was as all his other home-comings had been. Then outside Tonia swung in a grass hammock with her guitar and sang sad canciones de amor . "Do you love me just the same, old girl?" asked the Kid, hunting for his cigarette papers.
The black horse's life was not an easy one under Kid's mastership. The boy never rode at a less pace than a gallop, and even in that dry, hot air Dynamite was always reeking with sweat when they came home. Just how the Kid put in his time out on the plains was a mystery. The cowboys with whom and for whose assistance he was sent out good-naturedly swore that he was "not worth a whoop in h l."
"You'll be sorry for this when you're sober. The Kid's worth a fiver." One of my eyes was not so swelled up as the other, and as I hung by my tail, I opened it, and saw one of the pals take the groom by the shoulder. "You ought to give 'im five pounds for that dog, mate," he says; "that's no ordinary dog. That dog's got good blood in him, that dog has. Why, his father that very dog's father "
A grinning desperado disarmed Lefty and Red and picked up The Kid's two Colts. "It'd 'a' been better fer yuh if yuh'd shot it out," sneered Blacksnake, "because Gentleman John will have somethin' in store fer yuh that yuh won't like. Wait till he sets eyes on yuh, Cotton-picker! Boilin' alive will seem like a picnic!
If you was right up against it and had a chance to grab off eating money, you wouldn't want anybody around knocking, would you? On the level?" He looked up as he finished, and the Bald-faced Kid's heart smote him.
Jimmy Stiles is the young gaffer I's trailin' that afternoon with that tan satchel from the Alderson Construction Company's office. No, the Chief didn't say anythin' to me 'bout him; but I knows where he is." "You do?" "Sure Mike! An' I proceeds to dry them tears the Queen's sheddin' by informin' her that the kid's within a few miles of her right now." "What? You mean he's " "Yep.
There were other shouts then, tenor Mexican voices for the most part with the Kid's unmistakable snarl running through them. Men were calling in Spanish to their fellows across the arroyo. Whatever it was that Brocky was trying to say was lost in the din. And then again came a volley of rifle-shots. Norton rose slowly to his feet, studying the situation with frowning eyes.
Even in that desperate moment, Kid Wolf hesitated to kill until it was necessary. The Arnolds, however, were out of the chase for good and all. Stephenson also felt the crippling sting of the Texan's lead and toppled from his mount, drilled high in the shoulder. Henry Shank and Gil Garvey, shaken at The Kid's marksmanship, drew in their horses, unwilling to press closer.
She continued to contemplate him. Her eyes were strange, baffling, smouldering, yellow-brown, shifting, yet not shifty: eyes with a history. Her laugh proclaimed both effrontery and uneasiness. "Don't get huffy," she said. "The kid's sick that's on the level, is it? You didn't come 'round to see me?" The insinuation was in her voice as well as in her words.
For a second the Ramblin' Kid's eyes narrowed, then he replied coldly to the last half of Dorsey's sentence: "Well, th' filly's been runnin' in that neighborhood an'" with a laugh that had in it just the hint of a sneer "she's pretty fair good enough, I figure, to beat hell out of old Thunderbolt!" "Are you backing that with money?" Dorsey and Flip spoke together.
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