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Updated: May 26, 2025
This was the invidious distinction between them and the Sour-doughs, who, forsooth, made their bread from sour-dough because they had no baking- powder. All of which is neither here nor there. The men in the fort disdained the newcomers and enjoyed seeing them come to grief. Especially did they enjoy the havoc worked amongst the newcomers' dogs by White Fang and his disreputable gang.
I should like to point to Casey Ryan, the mining millionaire and say, 'That plutocratic gentleman over there once knocked me down with a hammer, and washed my dishes for two weeks, and really, my dears, you should taste his sour-dough biscuits!"
Then he set out a tin of molasses and the sour-dough bread, after which there was nothing to do but wait for the potatoes to boil, and for Kate. He was trying the potatoes with a fork when he raised his head sharply. He was sure he heard the rattle of rocks. A faint whoop followed. "Thank God!"
"Can't lose no time with all that multitude a-rushin' by," Kink spluttered, as he jabbed the sour-dough can into the beanpot with one hand and with the other gathered in the frying-pan and coffee- pot. "Should say not," gasped Bill, his head and shoulders buried in a clothes-sack wherein were stored winter socks and underwear.
"If we catch 'em we'll never pass 'em," he panted. "Lord, what a pace they're hittin'. Dollars to doughnuts they're no chechakos. They're the real sour-dough variety, you can stack on that." Smoke was leading when they finally caught up, and he was glad to ease to a walk at their heels. Almost immediately he got the impression that the one nearer him was a woman.
His instrument was not a large one, and the dugout door was thick, as a precaution against discovery if he should be called when some visitor chanced to be in the cabin. Not often did a man ride that way, though occasionally some one stopped for a meal if he knew that the cabin was there and had ever tasted Swan's sour-dough biscuits.
"Sure, that's the way they do in books," Chuck urged. "Yes," the Ramblin' Kid broke in with a slow drawl, "fight one with sour-dough biscuits at a hundred yards! That'd be sensible then both of you'd be genuine heroes!" "Gosh, th' Ramblin' Kid's awake!" Bert laughed. "How does it happen you ain't fell in love with Carolyn June?" he asked, turning toward the slender, dark-eyed, young cowboy.
And life is not so simple that you can ride its problems away on the cap-rail from a corral. It's unfortunate that that absurd old sour-dough, for all his good intentions, ever got in touch with Lady Alicia. I have, in fact, strictly forbidden him to repeat his visit to Casa Grande, under any circumstances.
"You're an old sour-dough miner, and we-all agree we'd like to have you throw-in with us. What say?" The old miner's answer was direct but not flattering. "What do I want to go on a wild-goose mush with a bunch of bums for?" he shrilled. Bill Macy scratched his hook nose and looked reproachfully at his host. At least Holt thought he was looking at him.
And of course I wanted to get back to Addie and the girls, but I seen Sour-dough here was in trouble, so I stayed right by him, and between us we got the maniac here." "He's one of them should never touch liquor," said Cousin Egbert; "it makes a demon of him." "I got his knife away from him early in the game," said the other.
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