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Updated: June 13, 2025
Grégoire stopped at the window to tell her, with a sad attempt at indifference: “Yo’ brotha says don’t hurry packin’; Woodson ain’t goin’ to come fur your trunks tell mornin’.” “All right, thank you,” glancing towards him for an instant carelessly and going on with her work. “I didn’ know you was goin’ away.”
"'Tisn't much," said Toby, "but 'twould make for weariness to pack un on our backs. I'm thinkin' I'll fix up a riggin' to haul un. 'Twill be easier than packin'." He proceeded to lay two of the long boat oars parallel upon the snow, and about eighteen inches apart. The blade end of the oars he connected with half a dozen sticks, the end of the sticks lashed firmly to the oars.
"Then I guess I'll get right on with my packin'." They were standing on the stoop of Aston's Hotel. In front of them the broad Avenue opened out with its central walk, between an aisle of wide-spreading maple trees bathed in the early morning sun. A spring wagon was already moving away, piled up with baggage. The saddle horses were ready, held by one of the hotel servants.
"Guess you won't need to charge nothin' for the wife and kids, seein' as I ain't got none," said the man. "Ketch me saddled up with a woman an' kids, if I know what I'm about. Them's for the benefactors. I live in a little shanty I rigged up myself out of two packin' boxes. I've got 'em on a man's medder here.
Old Jerry stood there, still shifting from one foot to the other, considering in growing wonder that silent preparation, and waiting patiently for a further explanation of what it meant. At last, when he could no longer endure the suspense, he broke that silence himself. "Packin' up for a little trip, be you?" he ventured mildly.
"Eyah," agreed Slavin, grimly, "he may. . . . A Luger's a mighty diff'runt kind av a gun tu other authomatics . . . an' th' man that shot Larry Blake ain't likely tu be fule enough tu risk packin' ut around for a chance tu thrip um up some day."
All week you been packin' the troubles I heaped on you, precious, and afteh you-all saved me from being a criminal...." So he went on, spending his tempestuous love in endearments and caresses, and so together they afterward talked it out and agreed to send the letter she had written. But Lee was not satisfied with her atonement.
He comes out shore-'nough, but he's organized. He's got his gun in his hand; an' also he's packin' the Deef Woman's yearlin' in front of his breast an' face. "Jack gives him the word, but Pinon Bill only laughs. Then Jack makes a bluff with his gun like he's goin' to shoot Pinon Bill, the infant, an' all involved tharin. This yere last move rattles Pinon Bill, an' he ups an' slams loose at Jack.
There's an old Injun been in the habit of packin' in high grade in a lard bucket, and nobody's been able to trail him and git back to tell about it. He's an old she-bear to do anything with, but I got a scheme, Bill " "Ferget it," Bill advised. "Now you listen to me, Casey, and lay off that prospectin' bug for awhile.
This Boone's packin' a most excellent six-shooter loose in the waistband of his laiggin's. Boone's passin' by as Yuba lets fly his taunts an' this piece of ordnance is in easy reach. With one motion I secures it an' the moment followin' the muzzle is pressin' ag'inst a white pearl button on Yuba's bloo shirt. ""Bein' now equipped," I says, "this war-dance may proceed."
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