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Updated: September 10, 2025
"I mean," said Chook, stumbling for words, "I ought to 'ave 'ad more sense than ter drag yez out of a good 'ome ter come 'ere an' work like a bus 'orse." "Is that all?" inquired Pinkey. "Yes; wot did yer think?" said Chook, miserably. "It fair gives me the pip ter see yer 'umpin' a sack round the stalls, when I wanted ter make yer 'appy an' comfortable." Pinkey took a long breath of relief.
Which reply conveyed nothing to Wallie. Pinkey added: "I punch cows for their outfit." "Indeed," politely. Then, curiosity consuming him, he hazarded another question: "What did she say when she heard I was coming?" "She laughed to kill herself." Pinkey seldom lied when the truth would answer. In the meantime, Tucker, in guarded language, was informing Canby of the entry by telephone.
A crowd gathered, and Pinkey was pushed to the outside of the ring, where she could only judge the progress of the fight by the cries of the onlookers. "Use yer left, Chook." "Wot price that?" "Time!" "Wait fer 'is rush, an' use yer right." "Foller 'im up, Chook." "Oh, dry up! I tell yer 'e slipped." "Not in the same class, I tell yer." "Mix it, Chook mix it. Yer've got 'im beat."
She often wished that Pinkey had married a grocer. Chook had said nothing to her of his win at the two-up school, and she only heard of it at the last moment through a neighbour. She put on her hat, and just reached the shop in time to see Chook drive up to the door in his own horse and cart. Pinkey was standing there, radiant, her dreams come true, already feeling that their fortunes were made.
Wallie laughed lightly, and as he went down to meet the groom who was now at the foot of the steps with the horses he assured her that there was not the least cause for anxiety. "Why, that's a Western horse!" Miss Spenceley exclaimed. "Isn't that a brand on the shoulder?" "It looks like it," Pinkey answered, ruffing the hair then smoothing it. "Shore it's a brand."
Not only was the grain trampled so the field looked like a race course, but panel after panel of the fence was down where the quaking-asp posts had snapped like lead-pencils. As Pinkey and Wallie surveyed it in the early dawn Wallie's voice had a catch in it when he said finally: "I guess I'm done farming. They made a good job of it."
The others stood silent with a little fear in their hearts at the sight of this old man with the face of a sleep-walker; but suddenly Pinkey walked up to him, and, reaching on tiptoe, kissed him, her face pink with emotion. It was the first time since her unforgiven marriage.
But his affair with Pinkey had been full of surprises, and this was not the least, that chance had given him an informal introduction to Pinkey's stepmother and the furniture.
Tucker thought there was no doubt about that, and he had a worthy feeling of having earned the yearly stipend which he received from Canby for these small services. "We'd better sift along and git out there," Pinkey advised when they were back at the Prouty House. "To-day?" "You bet you! That's no dream about Boise Bill bein' ugly, and he might try to hold the 160 if he got wind of your filing."
"Wouldn't that be some rank! Even if we 'rim a tire' we got to swing off this track, for there's a culvert somewheres along here and " "Pink!" Pinkey had no time to look, but he knew what the sharp exclamation meant. "Pull my gun out lay it on the seat I can stop 'em if I must." Pinkey's face was white under its sunburn and his jaw was set. "How far we got?"
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