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Updated: May 16, 2025
As Red was a mighty man in Gideon, so his taking off was an event of moment, and he was waked with an elegance unsurpassed in the annals of Cherry Hill. "An' if ye don't put the son-of-a who kilt me b'y in th' chair, ye name's mud see?" the elder McGurk had informed District Attorney Peckham the next morning. "I've told the cops who done it. Now you do the rest understand?"
It became a battle of mental endurance and Corliss eventually won. After the lapse of several seconds, the cowboy spoke to his horse. "Come on, Doc! The son-of-a is loco." Corliss heard, but held his peace. He stood watching the cowboy until the latter was out on the road. He noticed that he took the northern branch, toward Antelope.
Kars leaned out of the box. He could see nothing of what was going on. He abruptly drew back, and turned to his companion. "Say " But his words remained unuttered. He was interrupted by a violent shout from below. "You son-of-a !" Bill's hand clutched at Kars' muscular arm. "That's the kid! Quick! Come on!" They started for the door of the box.
"Kill the dirty rascal! Make the son-of-a kiss the flag!" Words screeched out of a bay of sound. "Kill him! Kill the son-of-a String him up!" On the edge of the ball that was growing larger and seeming about to burst into some wild activity, Rachel stood tip-toed. She could see two burly-looking men dragging a bloody figure out of a doorway. Blood dropped from him, leaving stains on the top step.
This is wot I wus thinkin'. I'll git right up to his shack, an' I'll call him every son-of-a I ken think of. See? He'll git riled, an' wal, I owe her a debt o' gratitood, an' I can't never pay it no other ways, so I'll jest see my slug finds his carkis right, 'fore he does me in." Arizona stepped back with an air of triumph. He could see no flaw in his plan. It was splendid, subtle.
An' at daylight I went up to the stable while he was sleepin', an' the dog-gone fool hadn't cleaned the saddle marks from their backs. Now, if you're feeling like bearin' a hand in lagging this black son-of-a I'm with you fair an' square. We won't shake hands, for good reasons, but your word'll go with me." "Nothing would suit me better." Tresler was struggling to fathom the man's object. "Good.
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