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Updated: June 16, 2025


His guilt was manifest, and he was again flogged most nobly and dismissed the school for ever in disgrace, as a most incorrigible vagabond. This was a great victory gained, and I rejoiced and exulted exceedingly in it. It had, however, very nigh cost me my life; for I not long thereafter I encountered M'Gill in the fields, on which he came up and challenged me for a liar, daring me to fight him.

I'll have to speak to daddy about it, Sam, though I hate to bother him just now. He's all worked up over that business of last night." "Don't understand it," said the foreman, shaking his head. "Could it have been the bootlegger?" queried Frances, referring to the illicit whiskey seller of whom she suspected the irresponsible Ratty M'Gill had purchased liquor.

His face was very red and his eyes were blurred, and Frances feared he had been drinking. "Hi, lady!" he drawled. "Are ye mad with me?" "I don't like you, M'Gill," the girl said, frankly. "You don't expect me to, do you?" "Aw, why be fussy?" asked the cowboy, gaily. "It's too pretty a world to hold grudges. Let's be friends, Frances."

"What's the matter?" he asked, curiously. "I thought that was Ratty M'Gill with that bunch," Frances answered, more as though thinking aloud than consciously answering Pratt's question. "The rascal! He'd run all the fat off a bunch of cows between pastures." She pulled Molly around and headed the pinto for the herd.

Mack could break that M'Gill in two if the foolish fellow became really fresh with you. Now! I don't want to say anything to hurt your feelings, Frances; but it does seem to me that this Pratt Sanderson was too handy when that hold-up man got the chest." It was just as the girl feared. She bit her lip and said nothing. She did not see what there was to say in Pratt's defense.

There was a sheath fastened to his saddle for the weapon, and he finally left it therein. Pratt really thought that nothing of a serious nature had happened to his girl friend. Seeing Ratty M'Gill had reminded him that the cowpuncher had once troubled Frances, and Pratt had ridden down this way to offer his escort to the old ranchman's daughter.

I was actually terrified to look at him, and trembled at his voice. M'Gill was called upon, and examined relating to the obnoxious figures. He denied flatly that any of them were of his doing. But the master inquiring at him whose they were, he could not tell, but affirmed it to be some trick. Mr.

I told a lie of him. I came boldly up to the master, and told him that M'Gill had in my hearing cursed him in a most shocking manner, and called him vile names. He called M'Gill, and charged him with the crime, and the proud young coxcomb was so stunned at the atrocity of the charge that his face grew as red as crimson, and the words stuck in his throat as he feebly denied it.

This may be by some people accounted a great sin in me; but I deny it, for I did it as a duty, and what a man or boy does for the right will never be put into the sum of his transgressions. This boy, whose name was M'Gill, was, at all his leisure hours, engaged in drawing profane pictures of beasts, men, women, houses, and trees, and, in short, of all things that his eye encountered.

I b'lieve she and that man with her set the fire that burned up my outfit." Frances herewith took part in the conversation. "Who set the grass-fire, in the first place?" she demanded. "I believe you did that, Ratty M'Gill. You were just reckless enough that day." "Aw, shucks!" said the young man, sheepishly. "But you haven't the same excuse to-day for being reckless," the girl said, earnestly.

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