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Updated: June 25, 2025
"Ah, yuh can go and see fer yourselves; yuh don't need t' take my word fer nothing" cried Happy Jack, much grieved that they should doubt him. "I hain't had but one drink t'day and that wasn't nothin' but beer. It's straight goods: Weary's as full as he can git and top a horse. He's sure enjoyin' himself, too.
"At the rate the rigs are rolling in, it'll take us all to put up the teams." The door slammed behind him as it had done behind the others as they hurried away. "Here!" Chip untied Weary's hands and feet and took him by the shoulder. "Wake up, Willie, if you want to be Queen o' the May." Weary sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Confound them two Jacks! What time is it ?" "A little after eight.
Before she quite knew what was occurring, the schoolma'am was upon her feet and snuggled close in Weary's eager arms. More, he had a hand under her chin, her face was tilted back and he was smiling down into her wide, startled eyes.
He did not want to ride out to camp; more, he had no intention of doing so. He stood up in the stirrups and declaimed loudly his views upon the subject, and his opinion of any man who proposed such a move, and punctuated his remarks freely with profanity and bullets. Under cover of Weary's elocution Pink did a bit of jockeying and got his horse sidling up against Cal.
It was unusual, this interruption just when he was busy cropping sweet grasses and taking his ease, but he supposed there was some good reason for it; at any rate he submitted quietly to being saddled and merely nipped Weary's shoulder once and struck out twice with an ivory-white, daintily rounded hoof and Weary was grateful for the docile mood he showed.
"Come and help me change saddles, Cal," he said shortly. "Weary's stirrups are too darned long." Even with the delay, he was mounted on Glory and galloping toward Flying U coulee before Weary was through uncovering the wound; and that does not mean that Weary was slow. The rifle cracked again, and a bullet plucked into the sod twenty feet beyond the circle of men and horses.
He had sent word to Weary to come and see him, before ever he received the Old Man's letter, and he had placed at Weary's disposal what funds would be needed for the immediate plans of the Happy Family.
Miss Forsyth drifted to other acquaintances, which was natural; what was not so natural, to Weary's mind, was to see her sitting out a quadrille with the schoolma'am. That did not look good to Weary, and he came near going over and demanding to know what they were talking about. He was ready to bet that Myrt Forsyte, with that smile, was up to some deviltry and he wished he knew what.
His knees pressed the throb and life, the splendid, working muscles of a galloping horse. Weary's head went down upon his hands, with the bit of sage pressed hard against his cheek. Now he was racing over the springy sod which sent a sweet, grassy smell up to meet him. Wild range cattle lumbered out of his way, ran a few paces and stopped to gaze after him with big, curious eyes.
And it wouldn't be a bad idea to haze our own stuff clear off the range. I'm afraid Dunk's sheep are going to fare kinda slim, if we go on letting our cattle eat all the good grass!" Pink did not often indulge in such lengthy sarcasm, especially toward his beloved Weary; but his exasperation toward Weary's mild tactics had been growing apace. Weary's reply, I fear, will have to be omitted.
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