United States or Switzerland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They put him into the wagon of the nearest rancher and jolted him home, his head in his father's lap and the great horse blankets thrown over him, making him dream that he was a loaf of bread in his mother's oven. "When Scamp came in, wet and almost dead, we feared you were gone." They were sitting about the supper table.
"You heard my plans.... Riggs, this girl-stealin' can't be done twice. Was you drinkin' or locoed or what?" "Beasley, he was giving you the double-cross," cut in Bo Rayner's cool voice. The rancher stared speechlessly at her, then at Anson, then at Wilson, and last at Riggs, when his brown visage shaded dark with rush of purple blood.
"How's your baby?" A shining smile rewarded her interest in the recent invalid. "Fine and dandy. You ought to see her walk!" "Isn't that splendid! And how's the little boy? Is he with you?" "No, ma'am. I kind o' left him to mind the ranch. He's gettin' to be a real rancher, that boy. He was sure sorry not to make Hidden Creek this trip, though. Say, he was set on seein' you. I told him about you."
"I wish I was equally sure of yours." Courthorne laughed. "I'm to be rancher Winston until to-morrow night, any way. Don't worry about me. I'll borrow those books of yours and improve my mind. Possible starvation is the only thing that threatens me, and it's unfortunate you've left nothing fit to eat behind you."
She bent to him to see his eyes. And for Wade, when she peered with straining heart and soul, all at once to become transfigured, that instant was a sweet and all-fulfilling reward for his years of pain. "You drive me mad!" she whispered. The heavy tread of the rancher, like the last of successive steps of fate in Wade's tragic expectancy, sounded on the porch.
"After all, I'm not sure that it's exactly your business." Gordon watched Laura Waynefleet as she swung through a waltz on the arm of a sinewy rancher, and his eyes softened curiously. "Only on the girl's account," he admitted. "I'm sorry for her. Stills the blamed old image isn't actively unkind." Then he saw the sudden contraction of Nasmyth's face, and turned toward him.
"We can have a drink anyhow," he said in that dubious tone which so harmonized both with himself and his sitting-room. "After which we'll see what's to eat. Terry fired the cook last week and there's been small feasting since." Packard accepted a moderate drink, the rancher filled his own glass generously, and they drank standing.
Two seamen deserters sprang out from the ranks of the mutineers. One stalwart forest rancher, however, tripped his comrade up, and sat upon his prostrate form shouting, "You'll stop just where you are, you blame idiot! You couldn't do nothing if you got there. Hardly room for them two fellows already where they can get at the log!"
At La Paz Paola was fortunate enough to meet her padrina, or godfather, who furnished us with mules and horses with which we reached Sauxal, Paola's home. There we stayed with her family for some time. While staying at Sauxal I went to a fiesta in the Arroyo San Luis and there began playing cooncan with an old rancher who was accounted one of the most wealthy inhabitants of the country.
"I hope it will not be necessary to subject you and Dot to the trial, but there is not a minute to spare." With his lips compressed, the rancher hastily remounted his pony and turned his head toward the water. "Let me keep in advance," he said, "and you can tell what to do." The obedient horse sniffed the water, but, without hesitation, stepped in, sinking to his knees within a yard of the bank.
Word Of The Day