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Dave led her to his patient, not at all surprised when she swore bitterly before picking up the unconscious man. "The team'll meet us outside they'd never get a pod in here." "Yes, sir." Dave led the way again, blinking as he emerged from the dimness into bright afternoon sun.
"All right; I think I can manage," he said. "When do I start?" "The team'll be ready early in the mornin'. If you start about four o'clock you c'n make Melton's old No. 8 Camp by night without crowdin' 'em too hard. It's the first one of them old camps you strike, and you c'n stable the horses without unharnessin'; just slip off the bridles an' feed 'em." Bill nodded.
"No, I wouldn't have missed it for considerable more than that miserable team'll cost," added he, as he came in sight of the carriage, on whose uncomfortable seat the drowsy driver had been slumbering all the afternoon. Will smiled, and made no answer.
"Don't worry." "I ain't worried none. I don't believe in worryin'; worryin' don't do folks no good, the way I look at it. But long's Cap'n Lote wants me to tell you about the hardware I'd ruther do it now, than any time. Henry Cahoon's team'll be here for a load of lath in about ten minutes or so, and then I'll have to leave you.
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