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"But it was Lorrigan meanness brought me here; it was a Lorrigan got me into the trouble now, and a Lorrigan got me out of it. It's always the Lorrigans." "Yes, and a Lorrigan's got to see you a little farther before you're through with them, so cheer up." Lance laughed again, an amused little chuckle that was calculated to take the droop out of Mary Hope's lips, and failed completely.
Never did she meet man or woman but the piano was mentioned. Sometimes she was asked, with meaning smiles, how she had come to stand in so well with the Devil's Tooth. She knew that they were all gossiping of how Lance Lorrigan had taken her home from the dance, with Belle Lorrigan's bronco team. She had been obliged to return a torn coat to Mrs.
"I'd shoot any one that said Belle Lorrigan's afraid but that's about what it amounts to," she finished with a little mirthless laugh. "Belle Lorrigan's not afraid. There's nothing to be afraid of. You've lived in the Rim too long, Belle, and you've been watching dad and the boys chasing that million.
Came to fear Belle Lorrigan's wrath, which bettered the lightning for searing, lashing sword-thrusts of venom; came to know her songs well enough to hum snatches of them; came to laugh when she laughed, and to hope that the next laugh would not be aimed at them; came to recognize her as a better shot than any one save Tom, who taught her.
I'm doing it by not minding my own business. Tom Lorrigan's a smart man but I'm Tom Lorrigan's son." Sam turned his foot over, looked critically at the calloused sole of it, turned it back again and blew a mouthful of smoke. "Yeah uh-huh. You damn smart you don't like them damn jail. I'm don't. We both smart, you bet." Lance lifted an eyebrow.
They're a hard-boiled bunch up that way." And he would be as nearly correct in his estimate as such men usually are. Tom Lorrigan's father used to carry a rifle across his thighs when he rode up the trail past Devil's Tooth Ridge to the benchland beyond, where his cattle fed on the sweet bunch grass.
And if she took the steep, winding trail that the Lorrigans rode, the trail where old man Lorrigan's horse had fallen down with him, she could be at the house in a very few minutes. "Ye look little enough like a runaway horse, ye wind-broken, spavined old crow-bait, you!" she criticized Rab as he stood half asleep in the sun.
Tom Lorrigan's father was called a bad man even in Black Rim country, which meant a good deal. Hard-bitted men of the Black Rim chose their words wisely when they spoke to Tom's father; chose wisely their words when they spoke of him, unless they had full faith in the listener's loyalty and discretion.
Of what avail to plod along the path of uprightness when no man would point to him and say, "There is an honest man." "They've give me the name, and I ain't got the game," cried Tom bitterly, in the quiet of his cell. "Whether I go to the pen or whether I don't, they better stand from under. They'll sure know a Lorrigan's livin' in the Black Rim before I'm done."
I'd ride to the next ranch and bring a wagon but the country's too rough. A rig couldn't get within five miles of here." "You're right. Not even Belle Lorrigan's buckboard could make it across that canyon on beyond. Say, speaking of the Lorrigans " he hesitated, then plunged recklessly on. "I'm going to pass you some dope I've got on that outfit. The chances are I'm done for.
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