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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Well, gentlemen, you seem to want to make me your prisoner," said the scout, coolly. "Thet's wot," cried Ross. "Eh, Tucker?" To make Pawnee Brown a prisoner would be of no personal benefit to him. "You seem to bear me a grudge," said the boomer, eying him sharply. Tucker could not stand that gaze and his eyes dropped. "Yes, you're a prisoner," said Ross. "Let's bind him up, Skimmy." "Take that!"
"Thet's a whopper made outer the hull cloth, Stillwater. Yer war going ter shoot me an' I'm a-goin' ter be jess as accommodatin'," and on the sly Rasco winked at Dick who was much relieved to think the boomer did not really intend to carry out his blood-thirsty design. The face of Stillwater grew as white as a sheet and he trembled from head to foot. "Don't! don't you do it!
"But how came yo' here, Jim?" asked Jordan. Then Sedgwick told him of his life since the day he left Texas; how he formed a friendship for Browning; how the deal in stocks originated, and how it resulted. The Texan went into raptures. "Yo' don't tell me?" he said: "Half a milliun! dod rot it, but thet's good; thet's immense! how it would tickle ther boys out thar to know it!
"If yer laughin' at ther idea o' Hatrack beatin' ther magpie hoss, don't yer do it, fer thet's showin' ignerance o' hossflesh, an' I thought yer wuz too well brought up at Moon Valley ter think thet pretty spots on a hoss hez anythin' ter do with his ability ter make a race er hold a cow."
I reckon it won't be none too pleasant 'long with Gene an' them Cheyenne bucks, but if she 's pulled through so far, thar ain't nuthin' special goin' ter happen till they git to the Injun camp." "You mean her fate will be decided in council?" "Sure; thet's Cheyenne law. Le Fevre knows it, an' ol' Koleta would knife him in a minute if he got gay.
"You're from way down the river. Thet's what they say down there 'on the dodge.... Stranger, you're a liar!" With swift clink of spur and thump of boot the crowd split, leaving Knell and the stranger in the center. Wild breed of that ilk never made a mistake in judging a man's nerve. Knell had cut out with the trenchant call, and stood ready.
Inwardly admiring the perspicacity of his companion, Jeff was about to open the coach door when Bill interrupted. "I'll pack the old woman, if you'll look arter the darter and enny little traps." A female face, anxious and elderly, here appeared at the window. "Thet's my little game," said Bill, sotto voce. "Is there any danger? where is my husband?" asked the woman impatiently.
"Yes, dad," she had replied, with strong clasp of the heavy hand on her shoulder. "Thet's just it, lass. I ain't your dad. I've tried to be a dad to you an' I've loved you as my own. But you're not flesh an' blood of mine. An' now I must tell you." The brief story followed.
"Men have lost cattle an' property in Linrock lost them honestly or otherwise, as hasn't been proved. An' in some cases when they talked hinted a little they was found dead. Apparently held up an' robbed. But dead. Dead men don't talk. Thet's why we're close-mouthed." Steele's face wore a dark, somber sternness. Rustling cattle was not intolerable.
Thet's Gene Stewart's hoss, saddled, an' comin' at a fast clip without a rider. It's amazin' strange, an' some in keepin' with other things concernin' Gene." "Give me the glass," said Al. "Yes, I was right. Bill, the horse is not frightened. He's coming steadily; he's got something on his mind." "Thet's a trained hoss, Al. He has more sense than some men I know.
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