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Updated: June 13, 2025
It was addressed to Slim in Silver City, New Mexico, in a childish, unformed hand. He took out the picture and found himself smiling into the eyes that smiled up into his. He knew intuitively that it was Slim's sister, yet the resemblance was the faintest, and there was not a trace of his meanness in her look. He had been right in his conjecture, Slim was "the runt of something good."
Making a resolve to get rid of them as speedily as possible, he dived into his breast pocket and drew from it a roll of bills that made Slim's and Joey's eyes stick out of their heads. He peeled off a twenty-dollar-bill, and flung it with no good grace down upon the table. "There," he said, "that's the last you'll get till the trick is done." "Thankee, guv'ner; I knowed you'd see sense.
Me an' Slim loosened up on him in th' Plaza, but we couldn't see nothing with him a-standin' against th' sun." "Where's Slim now?" Asked Porous. "I ain't seen him for some time." "Slim's with Trendley," replied Tex. "Cassidy handed him over to St. Pete at Cactus Springs.
Meantime Polly returned with a broom and began sweeping out the evidences of Slim's visit. She spoke again: "Get them hold-ups yet that killed 'Ole Man' Terrill?" she asked. "Not yet. But we had a new shootin' over'n our town yesterday." Slim was doing his best to make conversation. Polly did not help him out very freely. "That so?" was her reply. "Spotted Taylor shot two Chinamen."
They hurried through the afternoon crowd in Spring street until they were a block from the saloon. John was the first to speak. "Murphy," he said, "who is this man, 'Slim'?" "'Slim's' da right-hand man for da 'Gink. He's one of da few birds da 'Gink' will trust. And he's one hard-boiled guy, believe me." "Whose money was that he paid us?"
He showed his disappointment in every look and every action. "What kind of a book did you see it in?" asked Jerry, in a tone almost as sad as Slim's. "In the manual," Slim groaned. "Herb Wallace showed it to me." "That settles it," exclaimed Joe. "If Herb Wallace had a hand in it anywhere there's something wrong. I'll tell you what we'll do, fellows. We'll go and ask the headmaster."
"Ain't she a likely filly," mused the love-sick Sheriff. "If there's anybody that could make me good, it's her. I'm all in. If ever I get the nerve all at once darn me if I don't ask her right out." But Slim's courage oozed as quickly as it had arisen, and with a sigh he followed his companions to the wedding. What God Hath Joined Together
With an air of being late for many important engagements, T. Victor Sprudell bustled into the Hotel Strathmore in the Eastern city that had been Slim's home and inscribed his artistic signature upon the register; and as a consequence Peters, city editor of the Evening Dispatch, while glancing casually over the proofs that had just come from the composing room, some hours later, paused at the name of T. Victor Sprudell, Bartlesville, Indiana, among the list of hotel arrivals.
"Shake, Slim, just to show there's no hard feelings." "Won't do it," Slim muttered. "Oh, yes, you will," counseled Joe. "Shake hands, the two of you." Slim's good nature overcame his feigned reluctance, but as Jerry grasped his hand he gave Jerry a jerk that nearly took him off his feet. "Now we're square," said Slim, as Jerry rubbed his nearly dislocated shoulder.
Allen shouted shrilly. "Slim Hoover, if your brains was dynamite you couldn't blow the top of your head off." Polly was greatly amused by Slim's encounter with the cleanly Mrs. Allen. Slim stood with open mouth, watching Mrs. Allen flounce out of the room after Polly, who was trying in vain to suppress her laughter. Turning to the girl, he said: "Ain't seen you in some time."
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