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Updated: June 2, 2025
As Shorty leaned over, the car reached a clear place in the road, where the moon shone brightly. Shorty did not see William turn, but a brutal fist struck full force against Shorty's face and he tumbled from the seat into the bottom of the automobile against Jan. The dog growled, but the growl was meant for William, not Shorty.
Shorty's seemed all fists. Besides, his reading of handwriting was about as laborious as climbing a ladder. He tackled the lot bravely, though, and laboriously spelled out and guessed one address after another, until suddenly his eye was glued on a postmark that differed from the others.
"You didn't hear anything, huh? Yo're shore of that?" "Shore I am. If I'd heard anything I'd 'a' scouted round to see what made the noise." "Maybe you went to sleep." "Not me." The twinkle in Shorty's eyes was replaced by a frosty stare. "I don't sleep on duty, Judge." "That's what the sheriff said, Shorty. But, hownell they could dig that tunnel and not make some noise I don't see."
Gold from the grass-roots down. Come on. We'll sling a couple of light packs together and pull out." Shorty's eyes closed as he lapsed back into sleep. The next moment his blankets were swept off him. "If you don't want them, I do," Smoke explained. Shorty followed the blankets and began to dress. "Goin' to take the dogs?" he asked. "No.
But this once I'm going to. It's just a whim, I guess." "Oh, if it's a hunch, go to it." Shorty's tones showed how immediately he had been mollified. "A man's always got to follow his hunches." "It isn't a hunch, Shorty. Bright just sort of got on my imagination for a couple of twists. He told me more in one minute with those eyes of his than I could read in the books in a thousand years.
The shock of Shorty's first bullet striking him had turned him partially around, so that his left side was toward Shorty. He had lurched forward a little; and was turning, trying to use the gun in his left hand, when another bullet struck him. He grunted, stood slowly erect, and then fell backward stiffly. Shorty ran to him and to Krell, scanning their faces with savage intentness.
Smoke saw and heard as he was scrambling to his feet, but before he could make another lunge for the bank a fist dropped him half-stunned into the snow. He staggered up, located the man, half-swung a hook for his jaw, then remembered Shorty's warning and refrained. The next moment, struck below the knees by a hurtling body, he went down again.
He had come up here to sleep undisturbed through the day and far into the night. Before he had had two hours of rest this boy had dragged him back from slumber. He was prepared to be annoyed, but he wanted to make sure of the facts first. As far as he understood them, the boy told the story of the night's adventures. Shorty's face grew grim.
Our friend's tone was dubious. "Why, good Lord! I'd be bossing it over you if I took the stripe." An enigmatic smile wreathed gently over Shorty's face. "Don't you worry about that; I'll chance it." Then he turned suddenly on the man lying beside him. "You've got to take it this bally little stripe in this funny old army. Otherwise you're a quitter see? a quitter. You'd not be pullin' your weight.
"The crackers was moldly and the pork full o' maggots, and the Surgeon has warned us time and again against eatin' them greasy fried messes. All the doctors say that blackberries is very healthy, and they certainly taste nice." Shorty's paroxysm of rage expended itself, and he decided it wisest to accept Si's advice. "The berries is certainly fine, Si," he said with returning good humor.
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