Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 29, 2025
"A Centre O brand an' a Bar U looks mighty alike to a feller with poor eyes I reckon," and he smiled meaningly. "Oh, we can't help it, if some of the Randolph cattle get mixed up with our strays," said Len. "Who's talkin' to you?" demanded Pocus Pete, with such fierceness that the bully shrank back. "Now you cut out what strays belong to you, an' let ours alone, Mr.
Soon little spurts of flame in the grass showed where the contending fire was started. "Watch it now, boys!" Pocus Pete warned them. "If you see it starting to creep back on you swat it out. Take your blankets, and see if you can't find a water hole. Sozzle your blankets in that and swat the blaze if she starts to run back on you."
Pocus Pete shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed long and earnestly in the direction indicated by Dave Carson. The two cow-ponies, evidently glad of the little rest, nosed about the sun-baked earth for some choice morsel of grass. "It might be either or both," Pete finally said. "Either or both?" repeated Dave. "How can that be?" "Don't you see two specks there, Dave? Look ag'in." Dave looked.
Wasson," went on Pocus Pete with exaggerated politeness. "Dave an' I can take care of our own I reckon. An' move quick, too!" he added menacingly. Whitey did not answer, but he and Len busied themselves in getting together their own strays. Pocus Pete and Dave, with a little effort, managed to collect their own bunch, and soon the two parties were moving off in opposite directions.
Night on the prairies. Night, with a great herd of cattle to be looked after. The cowboys rode slowly around the immense herd, singing their own peculiar songs. Some claimed that the cattle were quieter if they heard singing. "Though th' way some of those fellers howl is enough t' give any self- respectin' cow critter th' nightmare," declared Pocus Pete. "Go on!
"God bless my soul, you don't really mean it?" Sir Charles cried. "Indeed I do," Beatrice went on. "This Bentwood is a doctor who is an expert in the miracles and the hocus pocus of the East. The drug they administered to you is not known in England; the thing has never been seen here. I understand that they could have kept you in a state of suspended animation as long as they pleased.
"Hum, yes," said Mr. Carson, musingly. "Well, Molick has a right to do as he pleases on his own land, of course at least I reckon so. But I don't like that business of putting a dam across part of the river." "Why not?" asked Dave. "He might shut off too much water," was the answer. "That's so!" put in Pocus Pete.
"He knows that if he let a lot of the men go, they might get all chawed up, and it wouldn't help the boy any, so he thinks we kin get him out of their hands by some hocus pocus or other." "And what do you think, Tom?" asked his companion, in a confidential voice. "Is there much show for ever saving the skulp of little Ned?"
But it appears that the old system of hocus- pocus is still to be carried on. This is no question of Manchester against Essex of town against country of Church against Nonconformity. It is a question in which we all have an interest, and in which our children may be more deeply interested than we are ourselves.
"Oh, I don't really believe there is any danger," went on Mr. Carson. "I was just taking the utmost precaution. But ride on if you want to, Dave. We can handle the cattle all right now, and I want to talk to Pocus Pete about the round-up." So Dave and his friend rode on ahead, following some of the cowboys who had been summoned to tear away the dam.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking