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Updated: June 3, 2025
McGinty's short legs caused him much trouble on the marches, but we had no braver or better man in the fights. One old friend of mine had come from far northern Idaho to join the regiment at San Antonio. He was a hunter, named Fred Herrig, an Alsatian by birth.
He seemed not to know the answer to that, and pulled at his ragged beard. She leaned back against McGinty's notice, and blurred still more the smudged intention "by virtue of the statue." "Married, o' course," she said. "No." "Widder?" "No." "Never hitched up yet?" He shook his head. "Never goin' to, I s'pose."
One policeman was indeed after him already; but the incident, as luck would have it, did the adventurer a great deal more good than harm. After the first introduction there were few evenings when he did not find his way to McGinty's saloon, there to make closer acquaintance with "the boys," which was the jovial title by which the dangerous gang who infested the place were known to one another.
Who'd look after Mis' McGinty's seven babies, when she goes a scrubbin' the station floors, if you wasn't here? Who'd help the tailor with his job when the fits of coughin' get so bad? 'Twas only a spell ago he was showin' me how't you'd sewed in the linin' to a coat he was too sick to finish an' a praisin' the stitches beautiful.
Chanticleer allowed the cat to come up close to his flock, when he turned and remarked in the most amicable manner, "Cut-cut-cut-cut!" which interpreted seemed to mean: "Come now; that's all right. You're evidently new here; but you'd better take my advice and not fool with me." Anyhow, with this, down went McGinty's hope of a bird breakfast "to the bottom of the sea," and he gave up the hunt.
"Oh a yes but I've been busy." "Guess so!" she said with undisguised scorn. "Where's Si McGinty?" "Reckon he's out at the gulch. I've got to go down to the A. C. now and buy some grub to take out." He was moving on. "Take where?" She followed him up. "To McGinty's gulch." "What for?" "Why, to live on, while my pardner and I do the assessment work." "Then it's true!
Get your word in first, or the hounds will be on your trail." "I was thinking the same thing," said McMurdo. "I'll go right now and fix it. You can tell your father that I'll sleep here to-night and find some other quarters in the morning." The bar of McGinty's saloon was crowded as usual; for it was the favourite loafing place of all the rougher elements of the town.
Her instincts were domestic, and her domain was the hearthstone, and there she and her attendants, miniatures of the charming damsels in Miss McGinty's peachy and strawberry-legged corps de ballet, rewarded virtue and trampled meanness under their dainty, twinkling feet. Moreover, the story was to be paid for, a condition of the greater glory, an irrefragable proof of merit.
Leaving the limp and motionless body of the editor at the head of the stair, the criminals rushed down and made their way swiftly along the street. Having reached the Union House, some of them mixed with the crowd in McGinty's saloon, whispering across the bar to the Boss that the job had been well carried through.
You're just the kind the McGintys are layin' for." She looked round to see that nobody was within earshot. "Si's been layin' round all winter waitin' for the spring crop o' suckers." "If you mean there isn't gold out at McGinty's gulch, you're wrong; I've seen it." "Course you have." He paused. She, sweeping the Gold Nugget with vigilant eye, went on in a voice of indulgent contempt.
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