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Updated: May 17, 2025
A pile of money had appeared by magic before Terry. "I came to work for money," laughed Terry, "not take it away." "I always lose at this game," sighed Joe Pollard. The door opened, and Phil Marvin and Slim Dugan came back, talking and laughing together. "What d'you know about that?" Pollard exclaimed softly. "She guessed right. She always does! Oughta be a man, with a brain like she's got.
But the fingers which he had crammed into his mouth were bleeding profusely. "They oughta be prosecuted," moaned the sufferer. "I'll soom. For ten thousan' dollars. M'hand is smashed. Looka that! Smashed like a bug." Banneker caught the hand and expertly bound it, taking the man's name and address as he worked. "Is it a bad wreck?" he asked. "It's hell. Look at m'hand! But I'll soom, all right.
"Don't believe that guy got hep to our number! Didn't have time," an optimist found courage to declare. "What darn fool was it that shot first? Oughta be crowned for that!" "Aw, the boob started it himself! He fired on us and we were only joshing!" "He got his, all right!" "Don't believe we killed him sure, he was more scared than hurt," put in the optimist dubiously.
"We oughta know it," Stoner said. "It saves paying a big corporation tax and lets you sell all the full-paid, nonassessable stock you want to issue, regardless of what the property is worth. Oh, we got wise to that, muy pronto! Why, these here Texas laws are the bunk! Them fellows at Austin, if they had their way, would make it impossible to promote a legitimate enterprise on a paying basis.
Lemme tell you I belong to a debating society in Chicago, where I come from, and them fellas up there, they'd think they'd oughta be shot fer a fake like what you people are tryin' to put over, here, to-night.
I was told this bird you're after was an important man there, so I studied him. One of the first things I found out about him was that he carried one of those needlers. If he's in your way, together we oughta be able to get rid of him ... but let's play it safe, eh?" The stranger gave him a cold, calculating going-over with those hard, suspicious eyes. "Let me up, Bub, let me up.
They rode close enough to hear Canby cursing as he whipped. "Look at him punish the poor brute! See him use that quirt and cut him with his spurs! Say, that makes me sick to see a good horse abused!" Pinkey cried, indignantly. Wallie said nothing but watched with hard, narrowed eyes. "I s'pose I'd oughta yell and warn him," finally Pinkey said, reluctantly.
He found himself in the position of a man scheduled to address the Brewers' Association and the W. C. T. U. at the same hour. Valiantly he attempted: "Miss Nash oughta be a good person for our picnics. She's a regular shark for outdoor tramping." "Oh yes, Mr. Wrenn and I tramped most all night in England one time," said Istra, innocently. The eyes of the table asked Mr. Wrenn what he meant by it.
"We-ell, if I do, I calc'late I got some idee uh how a shurf had oughta ack," Applehead informed him with a boastful note in his voice, and pulled himself up straighter in his chair. "I was 'lected shurf uh this county four different terms right hand runnin', and if I do say it, they wasn't nobody ever said I didn't do my duty.
"Every canyon 's got a trail that runs up a ways, and there's canyons all through the mountains; they all lead up to water, or feed, or something like that, and then quit, most gen'rally; jest peter out, like." And he added with heavy sarcasm, "A feller that's lived on the range oughta know what trails is for, and how they're made. Cowcritters are curious-same as humans."
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