Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 9, 2025
Limply the man's whole weight sagged down against Racey's supporting arm, and he began to snore. "Shucks," muttered Racey, then stooping he picked up the limp body in his arms and carried it to the house. "He's asleep," he called to Miss Dale. "Where'll I put him?" "I'll show you," she said, with a break in her voice.
"Get up," commanded Racey. "Get up, it's the early worm catches the most fish. Rise and shine, Swing. Never let the sun catch you snorin'. Besides, I can't sleep any more myself. Wham! Swing's flung boot shaved Racey's surprised ear and smashed against the partition. "You'll wake up that Starlight proprietor," Racey said, calmly, as he picked up the boot and dropped it out of the window.
It was an hour later that he heard the tramp of several pairs of boots on the stairs. He could hear the wheezing, laboured breathing of Bill Lainey, the hotel proprietor. Climbing the stairs always bothered Bill. The latter and his followers came along the hall and stopped in front of Racey's door. "This is his room," panted Bill Lainey. Unceremoniously the latch was lifted. A man entered.
It was she that helped us with everything she held Racey's hand for him to write a letter "his own self," to mother; she showed me how to make, oh! such a pretty handkerchief-case to send mother for her birthday; and taught Tom how to plait a lovely little mat with bright-coloured papers.
And two buttons came off Racey's boot both off the same boot, just out of tiresomeness and he couldn't keep it on properly, and he had to wear cloth boots in the house, because the winter before he had had such bad chilblains, so I had to try to sew them on, and you don't know how I pricked my fingers! I do think there is nothing so horrible as sewing on boot buttons.
Racey had walked all the distance he was humanly able to walk, but even so the horse had carried double the better part of twenty miles. It had earned a rest. So had Racey's feet. "My Gawd, what a relief!" Racey muttered, and sat back and gingerly wiggled his toes. "Damn shame you had to cut 'em up thataway," said Jack Richie, glancing at Racey's slit boots. "They look like new boots."
He recognized her immediately by the heavy mass of her hair. No other woman in Farewell possessed such a mop. Racey resolved to speak with Marie again. His hand was lifted in readiness to knock when Marie's visitor spoke. Racey's hand promptly dropped at his side. He had recognized the voice. It was that of Bull, the Starlight bartender. The shack door was fairly well constructed.
But Luke Tweezy could not know that. He put an affectionate hand on Racey's shoulder and begged for more. He got it. When Racey ran down and reverted to the bottle, Luke Tweezy generously purchased a second and invited him and his friend to a vacant table in the corner of the room. It was an amazing sight.
Without waiting for Swing's possible comment Racey turned his back on his friend and walked unhurriedly to his horse Cuter. Swing slouched sidewise in the saddle and watched him go. He rolled a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled luxuriously. And all without removing his gaze from Racey's back. He watched while Racey flung the reins crosswise over Cuter's neck, mounted, and rode down into the creek.
The man and the girl and the horse made good time. Racey's feet began to hurt before he had gone a mile, but he knew that something besides a pair of feet would be irreparably damaged if he did not keep going. If they caught him he would be lynched, that's what he would be. If he weren't shot first. And the girl well, she would get at the least ten years at Piegan City, if they were caught.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking