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Updated: June 2, 2025
For in order to draw the gun that swung at his hip, Blacksnake would first have to drop his implement of torture. "Heah's wheah yo' get it!" snapped The Kid crisply. Blacksnake's eyes bulged with sudden, startled terror, for he had a glimpse of the shining blade for one brief instant. His whip hand moved toward the butt of his gun. But he was too late.
"Me, I'm never one to argue with local talent, specially if they wear their Colts low and loose. Doin' that is apt to make a man wolf meat. Wheah to now this heah river?" Drew nodded. The Cumberland must be scouted. And, after that, the more formidable barrier of the Tennessee. He had not needed Pryor's warning about the latter.
"I beg yo' pahdon, caballeros," said The Kid softly, as he came up behind them, "but I wish to talk with yo' in private. Wheah can we go?" There was something in the Texan's voice and bearing that prevented questions just then. The trio faced about in surprise. Plainly, they did not know whether to take Kid Wolf for a friend or for a foe. Like true Westerners, they were not averse to finding out.
"Look out for your feet, Miss Laura!" exclaimed the maid. "I think I'll take two trunks," said her mistress thoughtfully. The negress pushed the table out of the way, and, in her flurry, nearly fell over the armchair. "Golly, such excitement!" she exclaimed. "Wheah yuh goin', Miss Laura?" "Never mind where I'm going," snapped her mistress. "I haven't any time to waste now talking.
Well, seems like we hit out across the Llano, aftah all. Let's get a move on, amigo! We've got work to do." The Texan's face, as he swung himself into the saddle, was set and hard. "Oh, I'm goin' back to the Rio Grande! The Rio! For most a yeah, I've been away, And I'm lonesome now fo' me Old Lone Stah! The Rio! Wheah the gila monsters play!"
As they emerged from the dining-room the next morning they were greeted by a short but sturdily built man whose deeply-set blue eyes lighted up as he slapped Douglass familiarly on the shoulder. It was Dave Strang, foreman of the Lazy K outfit on Cibolla Creek. "Why, yuh old son of a gun, wheah d'yuah drap from?" asked Red, with a portentous wink.
Does he want 'em any faster, he can jus' send us back thirty or forty fresh teams, along with good weather an' we'll be right up wheah he wants us in no time " "The boys are out of ammunition," Drew said quietly. "And they are tryin' to dig out the Yankees." "You ain't tellin' me nothin', soldier, that I don't know or ain't already heard."
The submarine boy felt confident that, in a stretch of trouble, he could thrash this guide of his in very short order. “Ah might jess well tell yo’ wheah we am gwine, sah,” volunteered the mulatto, presently. “Yes,” Benson retorted, drily. “I think you may.” “Marse Truax, sah, he done hab er powah ob trouble, sah, las’ wintah, wid rheumatiz, sah. He ’fraid he gwine cotch it again dis wintah, sah.
"Look out for Garvey, Kid," begged Dave Robbins. "He hates yuh for what yuh done." "I've heard of him," the elder Robbins added. "If helpin' us has got you into trouble, I'm sorry. He's a man without a heart." "Then some day," Kid Wolf said softly, "he's liable to find a bullet in the spot wheah his heart ought to be. I don't regret comin' to yo' aid, not fo' a minute.
If I want to get those six-guns, I want 'em fast an' I want 'em sure not 'bout ten yards away wheah I can't git my hands on 'em!" Their gnawing hunger drove them all into agreeing to the masquerade. Drew could not recall his last really full meal. Just thinking about food made a warm, sickish taste rise in his mouth.
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