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Updated: June 28, 2025
A dog would get a fairer chance." "At supper to-morrow tell the men," ordered Koppy. "Morani get dynamite. Werner take ten men and watch Mr. Conrad perhaps a knife. Heppel tear up track and stop Police. Lomask take ten rifles back of boss's shack. Hoffman smash boss's speeder. One-Eye Sam take rock-hogs to trestle. Dimhoff cut wires." Silence was over the group.
"Some bird!" sneered Koppy. "Maybe you flew from the Indians." "Look here, old chap," Werner bridled, "you don't think I ran about looking for that Indian and threw the damn things at him?" "You run-a spry away from him," jeered Morani. Werner made a furious movement, but noticed the Italian's knife-hand in time. "I wish to blazes I'd run spryer before he hit me.
If I set eyes on one of them again there'll be murder; I won't be responsible for myself if that cur Werner's smirking physog gets in front of me; and I'll punch Morani on sight, just for safety-first." Conrad rose and went to the door, where he stood in silence a long time looking through the darkness to the camp lights. "I'm thinking of the work," he said gravely. "Oh!" snapped Torrance.
There was a trembling and a shaking of the white figure for a moment, then down it went in a heap to the floor, and out came the substantial proportions of Doctor Morani, looming formidable in the dusky light of the expiring embers. The sound of his well-known vigorous laugh resounded through the kitchen, as he flung a bunch of pine branches on the fire.
You'd say I caught 'em at their evening devotions and smashed their crucifixes over their heads and tackled 'em with a cutlass in my teeth and two revolvers " "You might have a little on Morani for using a knife," Conrad agreed calmly, "but you'd have trouble finding a lawyer to take such a case. They made a request, without violence "
The old Doctor had hired several of these damsels to assist in getting in his olive crop, with the customary additional compact to spin some of the unwrought flax of the household when bad weather prevented their out-of-door work, as well as regularly in the evening between early dusk and bed-time. Happy those to whose lot it fell to be employed by Dr. Morani!
The boss was to blame for everything. But for his vigilance the trestle would long ago have been down. "Chico," he snarled, "watch me pink him." He lay along the ground and rested his rifle on a rock. But Morani, having suffered helplessly for a whole season at the hands of this nimble-tongued comrade, saw his chance.
"I'm not, of course!" "Sometimes I question it. Werner and Morani and Heppel were sent by the bohunks. With Koppy they have the whole bunch in the hollow of their hands. We couldn't face a strike at this time of the year; we'd never get another crew now till next spring and you couldn't stand that. . . . Don't imagine you've cowed them through their delegation.
He knew what the settlement would be, and the justice of it. He knew, too, the folly of protesting under the strain of the moment. So he tried to look aggrieved at their suspicions. When the conference broke up, and Morani attached himself to his heels, he smiled ingratiatingly and sauntered to the edge of the bank overlooking the camp. There he seated himself to consider his position. Escape?
We Workers know no boss; we please ourselves. We boss out here. If any one say no slash!" He struck downward with his right hand, as he would gladly strike when he had the chance. And Morani repeated the movement, only far more subtly and efficiently. Werner stumbled to his feet, his eyes on Morani's stiletto. "Here, you butcher, I'm not a boss. Keep that sticker away from my shins.
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