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Updated: July 4, 2025
Kirby moved his hand toward the spurs he had taken off and tucked into his shirt for safekeeping to muffle the jingle while they were on scout. "Took 'em away from a Mex officer, personal. Me, I was too young to draw fightin' wages in that theah dust-up." "My father wasn't too young, and he drew his wages permanent.
Nevertheless, the real figured in all business transactions. At the time we landed in Manila "Mex" stood with gold at an even ratio of two pesos "Mex" for one dollar gold. I innocently allowed a bank to transfer a gold balance on a letter of credit to an account in local currency at that ratio.
It seems Mex hadn't forgot old days. He claws me into a corner an' says, 'Bill, I'm goin' to pay you back for that Moralez deal. "'It ain't comin' to me, says I. 'That's a bygone! "'Listen here, says he, an', seein' he was in earnest, I let him run on. "'How much do you value that claim o' yourn at?
At the end of half an hour we found ourselves in possession of two pack-horses and saddles, and a load of provisions. "Look out for hoss thieves," advised McClellan. "These yere Greasers will follow you for days waitin' for a chance to git your stock. Don't picket with rawhide rope or the coyotes are likely to knaw yore animiles loose. Better buy a couple of ha'r ropes from the nearest Mex.
Four of them faced the forts at Ras-el-tin and the mouth of the harbour, three lay off the Mex Batteries, and one off a fort commanding what was known as the Boghaz Channel, while the little group of gun-boats lay out beyond the line of battleships. Further away to the east could be seen a great number of sailing-boats and steamers.
"Well, this here's gettin' like a story and not like real livin'. Why, I knowed old Brand in Mex. in the old days when a hoss and a gun was about all a guy needed to set up housekeepin'. We was pals. So he's foreman here, eh? Well, you follow his trail close about cattle or hosses and you'll win out." "I been doing that," said Collie. "The other day he told me to keep my eye on one of the boys.
Already he could see that Arizona had nothing on New York when it came to getting action for your money. "Life's just loaded to the hocks with disappointment, Olie," he explained, and his voice was full of genial sympathy. "I'll bet a dollar Mex you'd sure like to beat me on the haid with a two by four. But I don't reckon you'll ever get that fond wish gratified.
Unless the fact that it was also the substance of Saturn's Rings made a difference. Saturn another of the great, cold, largely gaseous planets, where it would perhaps always be utterly futile for a man to try to land... Ramos, the little Mex who chased the girls. Ramos, the hero, the historical figure, now... Cursing under his breath, Nelsen wandered vaguely to The Second Stop.
The wild creature, quivering with ferocious passions, put a fondling arm around the manslayer. "Mex wake captain. Help kill. Mex Castiliano. Nigger wench no! Injun squaw no! Your woman." Four men on horseback were nearing the country house of Colonel George Morgan, a veteran of the Revolutionary War, living near Cannonsburg, Pennsylvania.
"Honest, Mex do you expect us to do that? Be cavalier I haven't even got a pistol, right now. Neither has Igor, here. Come look-see... Hi, Frankie!" "Just stay there," Nelsen gruffed. Tiflin cocked his head inside the helmet of a brand-new Archer Six, in a burlesqued pose for inspection. He looked bad. His face had turned hard and lean. There were scars on it.
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