Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 2, 2025
So Rifle-Eye, he shakes the dust o' that house off'n his feet so good an' hard that he mighty nearly shakes the nails out of his boot-heels, an' hunts up a legal shark. Then an' there he adopts this half-witted youngster, an' has kep' him ever sence." "How long ago was this?" "Fifteen years an' more, I reckon.
Wilbur flushed at the remembrance of the manner in which before he had slighted the old scout's choice. "Oh, Rifle-Eye," he said penitently, "if I'd only known!" "You'll prize them more now," the Ranger said. The riders of the Double Bar J Ranch bunching up their cattle in the National Forest.
"Go on talkin'," said Rifle-Eye, "you like tellin' me these things you picked up at the Ranger School. Can you tell how much timber is used, or how many matches are lighted an' thrown away?" "Three million matches a minute, every minute of the twenty-four hours," said Wilbur immediately. "That is," he added after a moment's calculation, "nearly four and a half billion a day.
Wilbur took out from their case his field-glasses and scanned the horizon carefully as far as he could see, then snapping them back into the case, he turned to the hunter, saying: "No fire in sight here!" "All right," replied Rifle-Eye, "then we'll go on to the next point."
You ought ter git Rifle-Eye Bill to spin you some yarns about 'Death-on-th'-Trail. He'll deny that he's any shakes himself, but he'll talk about his old campmate forever." The cowboy pointed with his hand to a long, low group of buildings that had just come within sight. "See, Wilbur," he said, "there's the Double Bar J."
At supper all sorts of conjectures were expressed as to the cause of the pest, its extent, and similar matters, but Rifle-Eye said nothing. Wilbur was so full of the news that he was hardly able to eat anything for the information he was just bursting to give. But he kept it in.
But you ain't got any ropin' to do, so I sh'd think an army saddle-tree would be about right. There's Rifle-Eye Bill comin' out of the bunk-house now. Ask him. He'll know." Wilbur looked up, and saw emerging from the door of the bunk-house a tall, gaunt mountaineer. He strolled over to the corral with a long, loose-jointed stride.
"I'll let you or Rifle-Eye know as soon as I do," called back the prospector, "an' you folks can pan out some samples. If I find it, we'll make the Yukon look sick." Merritt laughed as they cantered down the trail to headquarters. Almost too late to save a fine plantation which a suitable wind-break of trees would have guarded.
As the lad had come to the ranch especially for the purpose of buying a couple of ponies, he was anxious to transact the business as quickly as possible, and together with Bob-Cat and Rifle-Eye he scanned the horses in the enclosure, endeavoring to display, as he did so, what little knowledge of horseflesh he possessed.
"Are there many sheep out here?" "There's a tidy few. But it's nothin' like Montana. You ought ter get Rifle-Eye Bill to tell you of the old days o' the sheep an' cattle war. The debates were considerable fervent an' plenty frequent, an' a Winchester or two made it seem emphatic a whole lot." "Was Rifle-Eye mixed up in it?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking