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Updated: June 12, 2025
Despite the fact that Tweezy and Harpe were at last being seen together in public, thus indicating that the "deal," to quote Pooley's letter to Tweezy, had been "sprung," Racey doubted that the murder formed part of Jacob Pooley's "absolutely safe" plan for forcing out Dale.
Is they any further business you got with me, Luke, or any more points of law you wanna be instructed on? 'Cause if they ain't, here's you, there's the door, and right yonder is outside." Luke Tweezy departed abruptly. Dolan laughed harshly as the door slammed. "He can't bluff me, the chucklehead.
"You heard what she said," Racey drawled, softly. "Git." And Tweezy got. "Do you think the sheriff will put us out?" asked Mrs. Dale, twisting a corner of her apron between her hands. "He'll take all the time to it he can," Racey evaded the direct reply. "But whatever happens don't think of taking any offer like that of Tweezy's. It's a trick, thassall.
"Take chairs, gents," invited Judge Dolan, looking about him in the manner of a minstrel show's interlocutor. "If everybody's comfortable, we'll proceed to business." "I thought you said this wasn't a trial," objected Luke Tweezy. "And so it ain't a trial," the Judge rapped out smartly. "The trial will come later." Luke Tweezy subsided. His furtive eyes became more furtive than ever.
"They knowed you was my friend," said Rod, simply. "Anyway, you keep away from McFluke's." "Maybe I will take yore advice. It has its points of interest, as the feller said when he sat down on the porkumpine. And speakin' of porkumpines, have you seen Lanpher?" "Shore. Him and Alicran pulled in a hour ago. Guess he's in the office Lanpher." "See anything of Tweezy lately?"
We got title to this place fair and square, and " "Not yet you ain't." "S-s-sh," breathed Molly, tightening her grip on his wrist. "It's like I say, Mis' Dale," Luke Tweezy burred on from behind his handkerchief, "I ain't got any wish to add to yore troubles, and so I got my partner to agree for me to give you five hundred dollars cash money if you'll pack up and clear out quiet and peaceful."
He hoped that all the boys of the 88 outfit would be at the ranch. He hoped that Luke Tweezy would be there, too. Lanpher and Tweezy together, the pups. "Fat Jakey Pooley's li'l playmates," he muttered and swore again heartily. He understood now the true reason for Jack Harpe's lack of activity.
And he no more knew how to make good in the business than the year-old baby busy with its toes. But ere this men have killed dragons and made wonders come to pass all for the sake of their ladies' eyes. Men as prosaic and matter-of-fact as the puncher, Racey Dawson. Quite so. Half-an-hour after the departure of Luke Tweezy Mr. Saltoun and Tom Loudon rode in on lathered horses.
He knew he couldn't sue out a mandatory injunction yet, knew it damn well, but he didn't think I knew it, damn his ornery soul." "Oh, he's slick, Luke Tweezy is," said Racey Dawson, "but like most slick gents he thinks everybody else is a fool." "He makes a mistake once in a while," grunted Dolan. At which Racey looked up sharply. "A mistake," he repeated. "There's an idea.
He went as far as the Happy Heart corral. Behind the corral he sat down on his heels, and took out the letter he had purloined from Luke Tweezy. He opened the envelope and read the finger-marked enclosure by the light of matches shielded behind his hat. The letter ran: DEAR FRIEND LUKE: I don't think much of your plan. Too dangerous. The Land Office is getting stricter every day.
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