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Updated: May 7, 2025
It's got hard work beat to a mush, because when you're ramblin' you're 'most always hungry. Listen! Love is when you ain't satisfied. So is a empty stomach. A fella's got to eat. Do you get that?" "Yes. But, Red, you said you loved a woman once. You didn't forget." "No, kid. I didn't. Once I didn't do nothin' else but remember. I got over that.
"Melancholical?" Skinny inquired. "My Gawd!" Old Heck said again, his weatherworn features working convulsively, "it's more than a mortal man can endure and stand!" "Bet somebody's dead!" Bert whispered to the Ramblin' Kid. "Probably. Most everybody gets to be sooner or later," was the answer without emotion.
The Ramblin' Kid watched it until it grew into a rounded plate of burnished, glistening silver. The Gold Dust maverick was suddenly flooded with a glare of light as the moonbeams poured over the top of the shed and streamed through the bars of the circular corral. The filly lifted her head.
Being ignorant, as we have said, of the cruel murder of old Mitchell, Ramblin' Peter's report had not seriously alarmed Black. He concluded that the worst the troopers would do would be to rob the poor old couple of what money they found in their possession, oblige them to take the Oath of Supremacy, drink the health of King and bishops, and otherwise insult and plunder them.
And he pulled a half-dollar from his pocket. "Put away your money, you blamed idiot " the Ramblin' Kid began. "I'll bet him four-bits he can't!" Leon cried, jerking a coin from his own pocket. Skinny and Leon each handed the Ramblin' Kid fifty cents. "By thunder, I can," Skinny said, pausing, "that is, I'm willing to bet my money on it " "Vhy don't you go ahead and do it, then?" Leon exclaimed.
The Ramblin' Kid volunteered to "ride-line" on the big pasture and see that the Diamond Bar steers had not broken out again.
"You can't finish it," she laughed. "He isn't in Eagle Butte! The Greek has gone away and well, it it was a good 'job' good enough the way you did it! I I don't want you 'teetotally' to kill him clear, all the way dead," she stammered. "The way it is you you won't have to leave!" "What's th' difference?" he said dully. "It's time I was ramblin' anyhow!" "Is it?" "Yes."
"That Captain Jack horse would murder any man but th' Ramblin' Kid that tried to get in the stall " "Well, by hell!" the Greek exclaimed, clenching his hairy fists, while his mouth twitched with passion, "that filly's got to be kept out of the sweepstakes someway or other "
As the gorged creatures flapped heavily into the air the young broncho wheeled, and bucking frantically, jolted away from the gruesome scene. The Ramblin' Kid forced the animal to turn about and made him pass, rearing and plunging, among the skinless and already decaying forms. Before sundown the Ramblin' Kid was back at the ranch.
"Yes," Skinny retorted, "I'm going to get drunk as you was the day of the race!" "Drunk as I was th' day of th' race?" the Ramblin' Kid repeated quizzically. "Oh, hell, yes now I understand " pausing, while a smile curled his lips. "Yes," Skinny retorted again. "Where'd you get yours that day?" "Never mind," was the answer. "I guess I'll go to Eagle Butte with you!
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