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Updated: May 14, 2025
"By tomorrow probably." "Are you going down there again?" She swept the city with a grimed, brown hand. "I'm going down sometime, not right now." "Any time'll do only the sooner the better. I've got an advertisement to put in. Will you take it?" He nodded. He would be able to do it tomorrow.
With her eyes beautiful eyes, with that new look of mother-love in them; proud eyes, with that inexhaustible store of riches all her own, worshipping the crinkly red snub nose and the funny moving mouth, and the little downy head, and everything else that goes to make up a properly-constituted Baby. "I think the time'll come, deer. Watch out, an' one d'y you'll see!"
That's why the young woman what served him seems quite unwilling to give him away. She won't tell now what he was like. She doesn't know what he's wanted for, and we don't want her to know just yet. That's one reason why nothing's being said public about it. But there! I really must be going now. My time'll be up at three o'clock.
If I hadn't become such a heathen I should say there was a Providence in it, but I don't know what to think about such things any more. Time'll show, and the prospect is better than it has been yet. She'll never be sorry if she carries out the agreement made today, if kindness and good will can repay her."
His small, swinish eyes blazed, his brutal features twitched, and his hands clinched together as he brooded over the interview. "He warned me, d him, he warned me! Me me, Bill Pritchen, the lawless, who never took such words from any man which I have taken from him! But I'll fix him! I'll bring him down from his high horse. He's got the cinch on me now through those d Injuns, but my time'll come.
"'Bout fourteen mile," answered Bradley, "to the ford." "What time should I get there?" asked Kate again. Bradley stood pat. "What time'll she get there, Bill?" demanded Lefever. "Twelve o'clock," hazarded Bradley tersely. "Or," he added, "I'll stop when I pass the ranch 'n' tell 'em to send a rig down in the mornin'." "That would take you out of your way," Kate objected. "Not a great ways."
"Shore she will," corroborated the cowboy. "Time'll cure her. I'm from Texas, whar sudden death is plentiful in all families." Neale shook his head. "I'm not so sure," he said. "That girl's more sensitively and delicately organized than you fellows see. I doubt if she'll ever recover from the shock. It'll take a mighty great influence.... But let's hope for the best.
I used to play with his fingers, an' try to build 'em up into a house, while he set an' told about new places he was goin' to to git rich. I wonder if the time'll ever come ag'in when I can set on any one's lap an' be kissed without any harm in it!" There was no false gaiety in her face now, as she sat and looked off over the marsh from the brow of the hill-slope.
Th' r-rich 'll inthrajoose novelties. P'raps they'll top off a fine dinner with a little hasheesh or proosic acid. Th' time'll come whin ye'll see me in a white cap fryin' a cocktail over a cooksthove, while a nigger hollers to me: 'Dhraw a stack iv Scotch, an' I holler back: 'On th' fire. Ye will not." "That's what I thought," said Mr. Hennessy. "No," said Mr. Dooley.
"I won't believe you, Dad," she said. "I'd sooner trust our Dan than any man alive. I don't think you're right in a single word!" "I was sure loco," sighed Cumberland, "to ever dream of convincin' a woman. Let it drop, Kate. We're about to get rid of Morgan's place, an' now I reckon there won't be any temptation near Dan. We'll see what time'll do for him. Let the thing drop there.
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