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Those at the head of the moving herd were strong and virile, and in good condition; those towards the rear were thin and scraggy, and many of these were a long distance in the rear. "Seems they've been having a stampede," Kiddie reflected. "The weak ones lagged behind. Looks as if they'd been chased." Amongst the stragglers was a magnificent bull, striding slowly but proudly alone.
He patted her soothingly, his cheek against her fair hair. "Well, what is it, kiddie? Let's hear! One of the youngsters in trouble, what? Not Jeanie, I say?" "No, no, no! It's Mike." The name came out with a great burst of tears. "Mike!" Piers looked at Avery, mystified for the moment. "Ah, to be sure! The dog! Well, what's happened to him? He isn't dead, what?" "He is! He is!" sobbed Gracie.
Would he just wait in camp in fretful annoyance? Rube knew Kiddie pretty well by now; knew that so soon as a reasonable time had gone by he would judge that an accident of some kind had caused the delay, and would set out in search. "Pity I didn't blaze the trail, somehow," Rube reflected.
Just for one brief instant Seth's thoughtful face lit up. He turned to old Louis. "Guess I'll borrow your buckboard," he went on. "I'll need it to take the kiddie out." The hotel-keeper nodded, and just then Nevil Steyne, who at that moment had entered the bar, and had only gleaned part of the conversation, made his way over to where Seth was standing.
One of the last things that Kiddie had said to him was: "Be careful. Don't hurry; don't worry," and, rather than risk a climb up the wet and slippery rocks, he again curled himself up and closed his eyes in sleep. The red dawn was breaking when he awoke shivering with cold. His buckskin clothes were wet and clammy, and his limbs were stiff. He sat up and looked about him.
"And the doctor's coming it's wonderful luck he came out from Cunjee with Wally." Jim put his hand on Norah's. "Were you all right, old kiddie?" "Quite right," said she. Then they waited silently until a rattle of wheels came as the express wagon clattered up. Murty went out to the track to bring the doctor in. Dr.
Some one's broken in and gone off with all my jewellery, my gold watch, my best revolvers, my cash-box with hundreds of pounds in it. Where's the hound, Rube? Haven't you brought her? Didn't you find her?" "I I found her, Kiddie," Rube stammered, "but I couldn't bring her. She's dead! Shot dead." "Sheila shot dead!" cried Kiddie, staring blankly in front of him.
"Well, anyhow, we've seen an' done a good deal, an' had a few adventures," Rube concluded, holding himself so that Kiddie might apply a fresh pad of lint and a new bandage to his wounded cheek. Kiddie left the head-dress and other garments where Simon Sprott had placed them.
God has taken care of me since A put it squarely up to Him! A've my wife! A've my children! A've my ranch; an' my ranch pays for the school! A've never known want! Why, man, thirty dollars a year is more than A need for m' clothes! A'm rich! What wud A be doin' goin' among a lot o' kiddie boys t' study Hebrew when A know the language o' the man on the street; an' A know God?
"Thar's a lot in that notion," Rube acknowledged; "but it's just a bit too cute fer a man like Nick. The galoot that would scatter his footprints around an' leave his pipe in the canoe ain't clever enough ter lay a false trail. Seems to me it's more likely Nick didn't see the tobacco. He was hustlin' to get away with the loot." "Everything else clear?" Kiddie asked. "Yes," answered Rube.
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