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Updated: June 3, 2025
Judge Pratt is willing to sell farms of one hundred and sixty to three hundred and twenty acres at about the rates named, and on easy terms. "The Hensley grant, lying north of Judge Pratt's rancho, contains five leagues.
"Oh, you must have something, if it's nothing more than lemonade with a stick in it," returned Charley. "Hurry up your pegs there, Charley!" cried Clinton, at the top of his voice. "Pratt's getting faint, and wants something to strengthen him!"
Crooper's fat hand, as if unconsciously, gave Miss Pratt's delicate shoulder a little pat in reluctant withdrawal. "Well, that's the way with me," he said. "Much as I been around this world, nobody ever tried to put anything over on me and got away with it. They always come out the little end o' the horn; I dunno why it is.
But this sense of security of power did not last. As the novelty of her position in Pratt's household wore away she found her duties irksome. She resented the flocks of curious or melancholy visitors and began to perceive the bitter truth that she was only a servant, after all, ministering to the pleasures of Pratt and his friends.
I don't try to tackle everything there's lots o' things I wouldn't take enough interest in 'em, as it were but just lemme make up my mind once, and it's all off; I dunno why it is. There was a brakeman on the train got kind of fresh: he didn't know who I was. Well, I just put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him down in his seat like this" he set his hand upon Miss Pratt's shoulder.
It was funny," she added irrelevantly, "but the more worn out we were at night, the more we'd want a little excitement, and we used to go to the dance-halls and keep going until we were ready to drop." She laughed at the recollection. "There was a floorwalker who never let me alone the whole time I was at Pratt's he put me in mind of a pallbearer.
She was bruised and suffering pain herself. But Pratt's case was much worse than her own just then and her whole heart went out to the young man from Amarillo. Pete sat over his little fire and smoked. He was evidently expecting Ratty M'Gill to return; but for some reason Ratty was delayed.
His face was dark with passion, but after a few minutes' pause he drew rein and rode away. "Another butter maker," he said to his men as he slipped from the saddle at his own door, "some ten miles up the river." "Where?" "Next to Pratt's. I reckon it's that brother o' his he's been talking about. They cut my wires and squatted on the Rosebud flat."
My challenge will go forth next Sunday afternoon, and one of the unchangeable clauses of that challenge will be this: the sittings must take place in Pratt's library and I must be present." "I hope you will not insist on that," Morton further urged; "for Miss Lambert's sake you must not.
Pratt's care was doing ill, she was half disposed to think that a little more active treatment' might suit her better. But without very definite provocation no one would take so serious a step as to part with the family doctor, for in those remote days there were few varieties of human hatred more formidable than the medical.
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