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Updated: May 29, 2025
Jean meant to fix the broken end of the longest piece and use it for a tie-rope, some day when she had time, and thought of it. Somewhere in the desk were verses which Jean had written, dozens of them, and not nearly as bad as you might think.
Had it been any one of the horses he rode customarily, his voice might have carried something of quiet to startled nerves. But as it was the horse was frightened, it was free, it was running and the broken end of the tie-rope, whipping at its heels, put fresh terror into it. Howard saw it dimly as it crested a ridge a few hundred yards off; then its vague shape was gone, swallowed up in the night.
After me and Barbie had taken up Dick's work we had divided his wages, an' she had a nice little roll of her own corded away. I didn't ask no questions, but it was plain as day that she had jerked up her tie-rope; an' the next time Cast Steel used the spurs he was goin' to be dumped off an' she was goin' to flit the trail for Never-again.
She was built like a stallion, and down her backbone ran a narrow dark strip of hair that advertised an ancestry of many range mustangs. "How's the Man-Eater this morning?" he queried, as he unsnapped the tie-rope from her throat.
"I'm holdin' down a better job than I did then," said Collie good-naturedly. "Well, I ain't. I'm holdin' the same job, which you will recollect. It ain't much of a job, but it's good to requisition that cayuse you're leadin'." "What you kiddin' about?" "Straight goods," said Tenlow, reaching for Sarko's reins. "Just hand over your end of that tie-rope." "I guess not, Dick.
There were spots of softer material, scooped out into pockets by wind and water; there were flinty splinters; there were places where the wall, looking from across the cañon to be sheer and perpendicular, sloped more gently, and a man might crawl up them. King had drawn up after him, stage after stage, the roll of bedding, using Blackie's tie-rope to haul it up and to moor it briefly.
Sure enough, the struggling animal had succeeded in regaining his hind legs and while the horse, with the cunning of long practice, kept his rope taut, the steer plunged about to such good purpose that precious seconds passed before the cowboy succeeded in making his tie-rope fast to a hind foot, jerking it from under the struggling animal, and securing it to the opposite fore foot.
Miss Georgie rose just as enthusiastically as if she had not seen Evadna slip from Huckleberry's back, fuddle the tie-rope into what looked like a knot, and step lightly upon the platform. She had kept her head down had Miss Georgie until the last possible second, because she was still being a fool and had permitted a page of her book to fog before her eyes.
The man was William Byrnes who had known Joaquin Murieta well in the days before that lynching at Murphy's Diggings. Murieta was washing his thoroughbred mare in the bed of the ravine. She stood, without halter or tie-rope, as docile as a dog while he laved her fine limbs with a dampened cloth. His saddle lay about ten or fifteen yards away with his pistols in the holsters beside the horn.
He works different. "Now, while he is figurin', you just git up easy and step out and slip over to the barn and saddle up Joshua. I'm goin' to need him. Take the tie-rope off Filaree and leave him loose in his stall. Just say 'Adios' to me when you git up, like you was goin' back to the hotel. And if you'll settle what we owe " "That's all right. But my feet aren't cold, yet."
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