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Updated: June 13, 2025
Slim must have him. Listen to Slim's bellow." And if there wasn't a first-class ruction in progress just upon the spot from which Slim's vocal signals were emanating, then Slim's voice was deceptive, indeed. As a matter of fact, there was the finest sort of a fracas afoot.
But he "wound up," as baseball pitchers call that curving swinging of the arm just before the ball is thrown, with such vigor that he lost his balance. His feet went up into the air and he came down ker-plunk! but the snowball left his hand with what proved to be unerring aim. Joe, letting out a howl of laughter at Slim's accident, caught the tightly packed wad of snow right in the ear.
The colonel was a tall man six feet two and the apron belonged to Migwan, who was short, and when tied around his waist line it did not reach half way to his knees. Slim's apron was long enough, but it would not go anywhere near around him. Being unable to tie the strings he tucked the apron in over his belt and let it go as far as it would. "Where's the bread knife?" asked Mr.
Bruce's eyes blazed into Sprudell's. "The heirs could not be found, you were given up for dead, and in any event I've not exceeded my rights." "You have no rights upon that ground!" Bruce answered hotly, "My locations were properly made in 'Slim's' name and my own. The sampling and the cabin and the tunnel count for assessment work. I had not abandoned the claim."
Murphy took two of the bills and John reached out his hand for the other two. As his fingers touched the bills, "Slim's" hand closed down on them. "Just a minute," he heard "Slim" say. His nerves jerked tight as he looked down into the thin, hard face of the man in the chair. For two or three seconds they looked into each other's eyes. Then "Slim" spoke.
Slim's laugh floated back and he disappeared down a ravine through which he was making for a higher point of observation further on. Ten minutes elapsed and there was no sign of Slim. When a quarter of an hour had passed Jerry began to get worried. Had his friend perhaps fallen and injured himself? Had he lost his way?
They concentrated finally upon the work which lay before him once he had demonstrated the truth or falsity of Sprudell's assertion that Slim's family were not to be found. He turned the situation over and over in his mind and always it resolved itself into the same thing, namely, his lack of money.
Slim Barker was in Quade's place behind the counter. Barker was Quade's right-hand man at Miette, and there was a glitter in his rat-like eyes as Aldous leaned over the glass case at one end of the counter and asked for cigars. He fumbled a bit as he picked out half a dollar's worth from the box. His eyes met Slim's. "Where is Quade?" he asked casually. Barker shrugged his shoulders.
Slim checked his first betrayal of his anger and kept himself well in hand. "Oh, Slim," pleaded Polly, "say you didn't mean it." Simply and sadly Slim answered: "I didn't. I reckon as how I'm some jealous, an' an' I lied." His voice dropped, and he turned aside, stepping away from the young couple. Polly was still in doubt. Slim's actions were so strange.
He had an impulse to jump and slide for them but the waiter was ahead of him. Sprudell looked back impatiently. "Thank you so much." She smiled at the waiter-fellow and Bruce knew her. Slim's sister! There was no mistaking the sweetly serious eyes, the smiling lips with which he had grown familiar in the yellowish picture.
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