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Updated: May 18, 2025
Glad to see you, suh," he exclaimed, extending his hand. "My wife says you're a schoolmarster; and you air ez welcome ez rain to a parched cawnfield. Whar'd you say you hailed frum?" He seated himself as he spoke, tilting his chair against the mantel. "From Virginia, sir." "From Virginny! Then you're twict ez welcome.
I would rather have lost a thousand dollars than had Nell Darrel slain." "She wan't wuth no sich money," growled Brower. "How do you know what she was worth, you miserable brute?" snarled the Professor, in an angry voice. "I take it, that I know more about it than you do." "See here, boss, aren't you goin' on a bin run for nothin'? Whar'd you be now if I hadn't gin Dyke Darrel his quietus?
'I'd oughter known a chill with half an eye; an' sartain this beats all I ever saw, With that she went over an' tuk the girl in her arms, an' sot her on the bench, sayin', 'You pore honey, you! Whar'd you come from? At this the leetle one began to cry tried to speak, then started to cry again.
There was a space of silence finally disturbed by a noise of boots in an adjoining room and presently Abner Rathbun stumped out. Abner had escaped at the West Stockbridge rout and having made his way to Perez, at Lee, had been forgiven his desertion by the latter and made his chief lieutenant and adviser. "Hello, Reub," he exclaimed. "Whar'd ye drop from?
The term didn't sound quite right to her, but she couldn't think of the exact word, and having used it, concluded to stick to it. Zeb Geary was not highly educated, but this word, so soberly used, struck his humorous sense, and he put his brawny hand over his mouth to hide his smiles. "Yep," he said, after a moment, "I understand, I do. And whar'd ye set out fer?"
"I wonder does any of them galoots forgit how the saloon got a-fire when ev'rybody was asleep how the chief turned out the camp, and after the barkeeper got out the door, how the chief rushed in an' rolled out all three of the barrels, and then went dead-bent fur the river with his clothes all a-blazin'? Whar'd we hev been for a couple of weeks ef it hadn't bin fur them bar'ls?"
"Your pinto? What pinto's that? You hain't got no pinto!" "Mebbe not," said Bill, slowly, "but I had the idee before you spoke that I had." "That so? Whar'd ye git him? Good for cattle?" The crowd began to gather. Bill grew mysterious, and even more than usually reserved. "Good fer cattle!
Well, I ain't much on gamblin', but I've got a leetle in my pants that says that there pinto kin outwork any blanked bronco in this outfit, givin' him a fair show after the cattle." The men became interested. "Whar was he raised?" "Dunno." "Whar'd ye git him? Across the line?" "No," said Bill stoutly, "right in this here country. The Dook there knows him."
Them Sioux will git fur away from hyar after thet massacre. But you want to keep sharp eyes out, an' if you do meet any, jest ride an' shoot your way through. You've the best horses I've seen. Whar'd you git them?" "They belong to King. He's a cowboy." "Hosses was my job. An' we can shore ride away from any redskins," replied King.
An' whar'd yer cum frum?" "I am an English seaman," I answered shortly, "and how I came aboard makes no difference. Right now I am the only navigator on the Namur." "What's happened ter Estada?" "He's dead knifed last night by one of the buccaneers. Manuel Estevan had a hand in the business, and he's safely locked in a stateroom aft.
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