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Updated: June 12, 2025
All is drawn on my map as we see it here before us; and this should be the fine dwelling of that great villain Holmes, now used as a tavern by Benjamin Hays." "Rap on the door," said Boyd; and our rifleman escort rode forward and drove his rifle-butt at the door, "There's a man hiding within and peering at us behind the third window," I whispered. "I see him," said Boyd coolly.
You have done me good! Let's lie down, put our heads together, and whisper. There were three of them, I think, and one may have stopped back." "It was our fellows, wasn't it?" "Yes, sir; and I know who one of them was. Didn't you get a crack on the back?" "Yes. Drove me forward on my face. I think it was done with a rifle-butt." "That was it, sir. You know who it was Scotch Mac.
Maybe it'll get solider, deeper we go," cheered Billy, hopefully. Charley hammered with his boot heel and pried with his knife; Billy hammered with his rifle-butt; and when they knocked off even a chip, it showed traces of gold. Why, wherever the rock stuck up, making little humps and furrows, it seemed to be the one kind: quartz-blotched and yellow-spotted. "Hurrah!" again cheered Charley.
"I lanced a man's boils last night, and it hurt him, but he must be well to-day." "Get in!" growled the guard. "She says it is sorcery! She says none are to let thee touch them!" Plainly, he was in no receptive mood; orders had been spat into his hairy ear too recently. "Get in!" he growled, lifting his rifle-butt as if to enforce the order. "I can heal boils!" said King, retiring into the cave.
Rob grounded his rifle-butt, almost in disappointment, but later expressed his satisfaction. "Now, boys, I got him," said he, "and I guess it's just as well he didn't have to wait till now for us to come. But speaking of trailing, Moise, you certainly know your business." "Oh yes," said Moise, "every man in this country he'll mus' know how to trail, else he'll go hongree some tam.
And if ever his hand itched for the knife-hilt, his finger for the trigger, his cheek for the rifle-butt, his nostrils for the smell of the cooking-fires, his soul for the wild mountain passes, the mad gallop, the stealthy stalk he would live on cold water until the Old Adam were drowned.
Sometimes they fell flat. Sometimes they turned and rushed the other way. It was wild, wild, like a change of the wind and tide in a storm, everything torn and confused. Then perhaps the word came to go over the top and at them. That was furious. That was fighting with men, for sure bayonet, revolver, rifle-butt, knife, anything that would kill. Often I sickened at the blood and the horror of it.
'What . . . ! says he, falling back twenty feet and losin' his voice. 'What . . . !'says he, gatherin'himself; 'what is this? "And then I come out of the cave and rolled on the ground. "The lieutenant walked over and patted me on the back with a rifle-butt. "'What d'ye mean, you s-c-c-coundrel! he says. 'Stop that laughing or I'll shoot the pair of you! "I come to quick when I heard that.
The sheriff drew down his brows until his eyes were merely cavities of blackness. Very tenderly he fondled the rifle-butt which lay across his knees, and never in the mountain-desert had there been a more humbly unpretentious figure of a man. He said: "Vic, I been thinkin' that you had the man-sized makin's of a skunk, but I'm considerable glad to see I've judged you wrong. Sit quiet here.
On the bank of the river, which I could see dimly by the faint light of a star or two that had broken through the cloud-rifts, he paused suddenly, sniffing the air like a pointer dog. "The gol-dern fools!" he muttered, striking his rifle-butt on the ground with an expression of disgust. "They 've gone and done it now!" "Done what?"
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