Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
But the sheriff's gun was out first. "None of that, Lanpher," he cautioned. "They ain't gonna be no lockin' horns here. That goes for you, too, Racey." "I don't need to pull any gun," Racey declared, contemptuously. "All I'd have to use is my fingers on that feller. He never went after his gun till he seen you pull yores. He ain't got any nerve, that's all that's the matter with him."
"Lookit here, Alicran," the peevish Lanpher burst forth when he and his henchman had forded the creek and were riding westward, "whatsa matter with you, anyway?" "With me?" Alicran tilted a questioning bead. "I dunno. I don't feel a mite sick." "What do you think I hired you for?" Heatedly. "Gawd he knows." Business of rolling a cigarette. "Yo're supposed to be a two-legged man with a gun."
"See that wild currant bush." To Lanpher it seemed that the sixshooter was barely out of the holster before it was back again. But there was a swirl of smoke adrift in the windless air and the topmost branch of a wild currant bush thirty feet distant had been that instant cut in two. "What was that you was gonna say?" Alicran prompted, softly. "I forget," evaded Lanpher.
They were uncertain propositions, every measly one of them. "Shore it's all right," went on the 88 manager. "I ain't meaning no harm. Yo're taking a lot for granted, Racey, a whole lot for granted." "Nemmine what I'm taking for granted," flung back Racey. "I get along with taking only what's mine, anyway." Which was equivalent to saying that Lanpher was a thief.
"He'll foreclose they'll foreclose, I mean." "Aw, maybe not." "Yeah, they will. I know 'em! 'em! They'd have the shirt off my back if they could. You see, Racey, she's thisaway: I borrowed five thousand dollars from the Marysville bank, on a mortgage, and there they went and sold the mortgage to Lanpher of the 88 and Luke Tweezy. And there's the rub, Racey.
Was it a foreman you wanted or a gunman? And what did Racey mean about Jack Harpe a-bearing down on you so hard, huh?" "Nothing, nothing, nothing a-tall," Lanpher replied, irritably. "If Racey didn't mean nothing by it, what did yore eyes flip for and why didja shuffle yore feet?" "Whatell business is it of yores?" burst out the goaded manager. "None," Alicran replied, calmly.
Luke Tweezy was as generally unpopular as Lanpher of the 88. But there was a difference. Where Lanpher's list of acquaintances, nodding and otherwise, was necessarily confined to the Lazy River country, Luke Tweezy knew almost every man, woman, and child in the territory. It was his business to know everybody, and Luke Tweezy was always attending to his business.
Beyond Lanpher and Tweezy are their heirs and assigns, whoever they may be. You can't go down the line and abolish 'em all." "I s'pose not," grumbled Racey. "Of course not. It ain't reasonable. You don't wanna bull along regardless like a bufflehead in this, Racey. You wanna use yore brains a few. They'll always go farther than main strength.
This agreement is signed by Jack Harpe, Simon Lanpher, and Jacob Pooley." "And after Pooley was arrested," contributed Racey Dawson, "the Piegan City marshal went through his safe and found the original of this agreement signed by Tweezy, Lanpher, and Harpe." Luke Tweezy held up his hand. "One moment," said he. "Where was the agreement signed by Harpe, Pooley, and Lanpher found?"
Five minutes later, smoking a grateful cigarette, he again started to ride out of town. As he curved his horse round a freight wagon in front of the Blue Pigeon he saw three men issue from the doorway of the Happy Heart Saloon. Two of the men were Lanpher and the stranger. The third was Luke Tweezy. The latter stopped at the saloon hitching-rail to untie his horse.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking