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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Not this chicken," a voice muttered, and a white form whipped his horse over to Wambush's. "I'm with you," said another. Then there was a clamor of voices, and all the gang gathered round Wambush. He chuckled and swore softly. "That's the stuff!" he said. "Them's Cohutta men a-talkin'; you kin bet yore sweet life." Harriet turned to Westerfelt. "They are drinking," she said.
They swung back and forth and from side to side, but they were well mated. Westerfelt suddenly threw his left leg behind Wambush's heels and began to force him backward. In an instant Wambush would have gone down, but seeing his danger he wriggled out of Westerfelt's grasp, drew something from his coat pocket, and sprang towards him. "Knife! knife! knife!" cried Luke Bradley in alarm. "Part 'em!"
It was very broad, the brim was pinned up on one side by a little brass ornament, and he wore it on the back of his head. Westerfelt caught the eye of his partner, and asked: "Who is the fellow with the hat on?" "Don't you know him?" she asked, in surprise. "Why, that's Toot Wambush, Sarah's brother." "Why don't he take off his hat?" "For want of better sense, I reckon."
Just then Luke Bradley ran up the sidewalk and out on the veranda near Westerfelt. He had a warning on his lips, but seeing the critical situation he said nothing. A white, tigerish look came into the face of Westerfelt. The cords of his neck tightened as he leaned slowly towards Wambush. He was about to spring. "Don't be a fool, John," cautioned Bradley. "Be ashamed o' yorese'f, Toot!
She wasn't in no fix to go; she didn't know what she wus about, an' that scamp would a-shot 'er. I believe on my soul he would." They had reached the stable and dismounted, but neither moved to go in. "I reckon you ought to know the truth, Washburn, since you saw her there so late at night," said Westerfelt, hesitatingly. "The fact is, she came to warn me.
There was a silence for a moment, then the first voice said: "No, not that away. Listen! It's somebody comin' up the road on foot. I reckon it's a friend, but I don't take no resks." The two men stepped quickly to the wagon and took out a couple of rifles. Then they stood motionless behind the wagon and horse. Westerfelt heard the regular step of some one coming up the road.
He turned away with Luke to get the basket. Bradley was saying something about a suitable place to spread the lunch, but Westerfelt did not listen. He could think of nothing but the strange, defiant look in Mrs. Dawson's eyes as they fell on the girl he loved. At luncheon Westerfelt sat next to Mrs. Bradley and could not see Mrs. Dawson, who was on the other side of her.
Bradley got out to loosen the bridle to allow the animal to drink, and stood with one foot on the shore and the other on a brown stone in the water. Try as he would, Westerfelt could not banish Harriet from his mind. Her sweet personality seemed to be trying to defend itself against the unworthy thoughts which fought for supremacy in his mind.
Hush, don't say a word; watch me devil him, but ef you don't keep a straight face I'll bust out laughin'. Lordy, I feel good somehow I reckon it's beca'se yo're shet o' that old woman's persecutions." Just then Bradley entered and laid his hat on the bed. Westerfelt now noticed the unsettled expression of his face and smiled as he thought of the innocent cause of it.
I jest want ter know now right now, by Glory! ef you ever give sech orders." "Do you think this is a proper place to settle such a matter?" calmly asked Westerfelt. "D d you; you are a coward; you are afeerd to say so!" Harriet Floyd, with a white, startled face, tried to slip between the two men, but Wambush roughly pushed her aside.
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