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Updated: June 13, 2025
"How did you-uns reach up ter that thar peg?" demanded Byers, pointing to the peg on which the coat had hung, far beyond Rufe's reach. "Clumb up on the wooden horse," said Rufe promptly. "I peeked through the chinkin' an' seen ye thar a-smokin' yer pipe over the fire."
"I reckon," said Byers, looking speculatively at Rufe, "ez't would take a right smart time fur ye ter git tough enough ter go 'bout in respect'ble society ag'in. 'T would hurt ye mightily, I'm thinkin'. Ef I war you-uns, I'd be powerful partic'lar ter keep inside o' sech an accommodatin'-lookin' little hide ez yourn be fur tanning." Rufe's countenance was distorted.
But Ump piped in, scattering the little cloud, "That horse ain't lame. He trots square as a dog." Jud looked away and swung up in his saddle. "May be," he stammered, "may be the horse throwed him, an' that was the reason." Again Ump, the destroyer of little hopes, answered from the back of the Bay Eagle, "No horse ever throwed Hawk Rufe." I sucked in the air over my bit lips when Ump named him.
"Prove it to me, then," she replied shortly, and waved him away, devoting her attention now to making the anchorage, already close to. Lucky it proved that Pascherette had been left behind when the schooner sailed after Yellow Rufe.
Y'u air too little 'n' puny, 'n' I want ye to stay home 'n' take keer o' mam 'n' the cattle-ef fightin' does come, I reckon thar won't be triuch." "Don't ye?" cried the boy, with sharp contempt "with ole Jas Lewallen a-devilin' Uncle Rufe, 'n' that blackheaded young Jas a-climbin' on stumps over thar 'cross the river, n' crowin' n' sayin' out open in Hazlan that ye air afeard o him?
Hollis, looking over his shoulder. "There comes the Nelson phaëton this minute! Melvy, get on your white apron. I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the parlor door." "Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors. "Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy, nervously trying to reverse her apron after tying the bow in the front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is.
"You're a purty set o' fools, ain't you? I want you all to stop this damned foolishness. Now when I give the word I want you, Jim Falin and Rufe Tolliver thar, to drap yer guns." Already Rufe was grinning like a devil over the absurdity of the situation. "Now!" said the judge, and the two guns were dropped. "Put 'em in yo' pockets." They did. "Drap!"
She was a Tolliver and the clan loyalty of a century forbade that was all. As she rose she saw a figure skulking past the edge of the woods. She called Bub in and told him about it, and Rufe stayed at the cabin all night, but June did not see him next morning, and she kept out of his way whenever he came again.
The crow had flown, but he heard as he waited a faint "caw! caw!" in the misty distance. Whoever the newcomer might be, he certainly loitered. At last the leaves parted, and revealed- -Rufe. Birt's first sensation was renewed disappointment. Then he was disposed to investigate the mystery of Nate's non-appearance.
Hiding among these woods Yellow Rufe and Sancho, he of the one eye and the mutilated hand, think to ward off my vengeance. By meridian to-morrow I command those traitors to be brought to me. Fail in this, and ye shall see that Dolores can be terrible, too." The crowd took this as a dismissal, and broke into parties to scour the woods.
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