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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Jest listen to the son-of-a-gun lie!" yelled Jim Swope, beside himself with rage. "Listen to him! He said that was all right, did he? Three thousand head of sheep stompeded " "Yes," roared Creede, "he said: 'That's all right. And what's more, there was another Mexican there that heard him!
When he reached the top the man was on the level, racing across a barren alkali flat at a speed which indicated that he was afflicted with something more than shyness. Calumet halted on the crest of the hill and waved a hand derisively at the man, who was looking back over his shoulder as he rode. "Slope, you locoed son-of-a-gun!" he yelled; "I didn't want to talk to you, anyway!"
The son-of-a-gun from Bitter Creek, like the "elegant gentleman" from the Dark and Bloody Ground, represents a certain type to be found more or less developed in each and every State of the Union. He is not always a coward. Driven, as it were, to the wall, he will often make good. He is as a rule in quest of adventures. He enters the village from the countryside and approaches the melee.
As he came near he heard sounds of revelry issuing from the open door and he smiled coldly. A flashing glance through the window showed him that Ten Spot was there, standing at the bar. In the next instant Norton was inside, confronting Ten Spot, his big six-shooter out and shoved viciously against Ten Spot's stomach. "What have you done with Hollis, you mangy son-of-a-gun?" he demanded.
He did so, and helped me to mount, and with a long stick which he picked up, struck my horse across the hip and yelled: "Now you're all right!" as I passed out on a full gallop. Just as I was leaving the barn I heard a voice cry out: "Stop that man! Stop that man!" "Go it, you son-of-a-gun!" my new friend yelled; and I did "go it."
"All of us every blamed son-of-a-gun of us." "Oh, I comprehend now that it is your wish that she love only you, Mr. Clendenning, and are sad that she does not," I said as I looked at him with much sympathy. "That is about it, Prince, but don't say I said so. Everybody chases Susan. She even wins an occasional ice cream smile from His Excellency.
He could not see what lay immediately below, but while he was still staring, a pointed, gray nose topped by pert, gray ears poked cautiously over the bank, hovered there sniffing, and dropped back out of sight. "You little son-of-a-gun!" he exclaimed and dug in his heels on the sharp descent. "I've got you right where I want you, now."
"I reckon you know the hoss thet made them?" "Gene Stewart's roan, or I'm a son-of-a-gun!" exclaimed Stillwell, and he dropped heavily to his knees and began to scrutinize the tracks. "My eyes are sure pore; but, Nels, they ain't fresh." "I reckon them tracks was made early yesterday mornin'." "Wal, what if they was?" Stillwell looked at his cowboy.
But they were pleased, beyond question, as was evidenced by the buzzing conversations during the intermission. "Great show, eh?" "I'll tell the world!" "Hey, Joe! You old son-of-a-gun! How'd you get down here? Thought you were wiped out up at Wipers." "Huh! Not me! They haven't made the shell that can get me. Look who's over there with a nice cushy wound to keep him out of trouble.
"Th' son-of-a-gun!" echoed Red, grinning. The waters of the Rio Grande slid placidly toward the Gulf, the hot sun branding the sleepy waters with streaks of molten fire. To the north arose from the gray sandy plain the Quitman Mountains, and beyond them lay Bass Ca on.
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