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"Kin ye go to Keene forty-two mile in an afternoon with a mate," said Rick; "an' turn out bright an' early next mornin'?" "Was there evah any time in your careah, suh I am not referrin' to the present circumstances, but our mutual glorious past when you could carry a pretty girl to market hahnsome, an' let her knit all the way on account o' the smoothness o' the motion?" said Tweezy.
"I ain't had time to get at 'em." "When you gonna get at 'em?" "Soon as I get time." "But lookit here, Judge. We're bein' delayed. We wanna get the Dales off their ranch soon as we can." "Off their ranch is shore the truth," struck in Racey. "You do tell it sometimes, don't you, Luke?" But Luke Tweezy was not to be drawn that morning. He focussed his eyes and attention steadily on Judge Dolan.
"Careful, careful," cautioned Racey, promptly kicking the lawyer's horse in the ribs. "There's ladies in the house. You get a-holt of yore tongue." Luke Tweezy obeyed the command literally.
Quite without conscious effort his brain registered and filed away in the card-index of his subconscious mind the picture presented by the passing of Luke Tweezy, the impression made thereby, and the inference drawn therefrom. The inference was almost trivial merely that Luke Tweezy had come from Marysville, the town where he lived and had his being.
"See yuh later, Luke," the stranger flung over his shoulder to Luke Tweezy as he passed on. He and Lanpher headed diagonally across the street toward the hotel. It seemed odd to Racey Dawson that Luke Tweezy by no word or sign made acknowledgment of the stranger's remark. Racey tickled his mount with the rowels of one spur and stirred him into a trot.
"Lookit here, Tweezy," said Judge Dolan, slouching to the front of the crowd, "are you gonna run them women off thataway after this?" Here the Judge jerked his head backward in the direction of the body. "Why not?" Tweezy demanded, sulkily. "We got a right to." "It don't always pay to stand on our rights, Luke," suggested the Judge. "I'd go a li'l easy if I was you."
But for the moment Racey felt his ostracism and resented it. He set down his drink half drunk and walked out of the Happy Heart. "See anything of Luke Tweezy lately?" asked Judge Dolan when Racey was sitting across the table from him in the Judge's office. "Saw him to-day." "Where?" "Moccasin Spring." Judge Dolan nodded and rasped a hand across his stubbly chin. "Luke is in town now," said he.
About midnight Racey Dawson removed himself, his horse, and his dynamite from the hollow on the hill to where a lone pine grew almost directly in the rear of and two hundred yards from the residence of Luke Tweezy. He had selected the tall and lonely pine as the best place to leave his horse because, should he be forced to run for it, he would have against the stars a plain landmark to run for.
"They might prove interesting reading, that's a fact," drawled Racey. "Now I ain't suggestin' anything," pursued Judge Dolan. "I couldn't on account of my oath. But it ain't so Gawd-awful far from Farewell to Marysville." "It ain't too far." "I got a notion Luke Tweezy will find important business to keep him here in Farewell the next four or five days."
You was hitched to a rail, back o' the stand, in a buckboard with a soap-box nailed on the slats, an' a frowzy buff'lo atop, while your man peddled rum fer lemonade to little boys as thought they was actin' manly, till you was both run off the track an' jailed you intoed, shufflin', sway-backed, wind-suckin' skate, you!" "Don't get het up, Deacon," said Tweezy, quietly.
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