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Updated: June 15, 2025
These walks were full of questionings. Big vital questions of life and death and immorality. They were quaintly put: "There's a lot of balderdash about another world, bhoy. On yer oath now, d'ye think there is wan?" "I do." "If there is wud He keep me frum Anna jist because I've been kinda rough?" "I am sure He wouldn't!" "He wudn't be s' d d niggardly, wud He?" "Never!
Will nodded, his mouth crammed with bread and butter, strange lights and flickering expressions playing over his starved, bony face. "Wilson says I'm gettin' a varra fair shot." "Aye? I've heard tha' practisin'." Brand turned a pair of dull eyes upon his son. "An' I wish tha' wudn't do't i' my garden!" said Mrs. Brand, with energy.
He beat it out quick for th' East-bound as had just come in. Said he was runnin' down to Calgary. He ain't back yet. Guess he wudn't want to go gettin' mixed up in anythin' like that, either him bein' a J. P." Slavin looked at Yorke. "Let's have a luk at that gun av Moran's!" he remarked. "Fwhat is ut?" Yorke handed the weapon over. "'Smith and Wesson' single-action," he said.
"Ain't ever hitched her, have you?" said Yankee. "No." "Well, might hitch her up some day. Guess you wudn't hurt the buckboard." "Not likely," said Ranald, looking at the old, ramshackle affair. "Used to drive some myself," said Yankee. But to this idea Ranald did not take kindly.
When he returned to the front room the Indian was still there. "Any spare cartridges? I'm about cleaned out. Jes' two left. Gotta save them." Mahon dropped a dozen in the extended hand. The Indian worked with them in the darkness for a moment and slammed them on the table with a curse. "Shud 'a' knowed they wudn't fit. Where's Torrance's?"
Sheridan he played hell with his cavalry raids, an' whut the blue-bellies left ther durned guerillas an' bushwhackers wiped up es clean es a slate. Durn if a crow wudn't starve ter deth in ther valley now. Why, Cap, them thar deserters an' sich truck is organized now till they're mighty nigh an army, an' they don't skeer fer nuthin' les' ner a reg'ment.
"'I've got me orders to do this work, I says begging his pardon. "'Here's your orders to stop doin' it! he comes back. An' I was inspectin' the muzzle av his six-shooter. "'Ye wudn't shoot a mon for doin' his duthy? I says. "'Thry me, he says. 'You're trespassers. The railroad company didn't come through wid the coin for the right-of-way.
Maybe the photographs of himself and his father would help. Have you any copies of them?" "There's jist two. I wudn't dare to take thim out of his room, but if ye care to walk up-stairs, Mr. Curran, an' luk at thim there, ye're welcome. He an' his mother are away the night to a gran' ball."
Ye show yer good judgmint in surrunderin' to th' girruls, fer wan av thim alone wud capture yez av she set out to, an' ould Nick take th' countysoign she wudn't nade it!" Next the country lad was invited to sing, "to develop his vocal organs." "Oh, say!" he awkwardly grinned. "I can't sing I really can't, by gum!" "Oh, you vos too modest alretty yet," declared Hans.
The Indian grinned and grunted acquiescence, and Creed inserted his arm between two logs and withdrew a squat, black bottle. "Here's some reg'lar ol' 'rig'nal red-eye. An' here's lookin' at ye," he said, as he removed the cork and sucked greedily at the contents. "Jest tuk a taste fust, 'cause I don't like to give vis'tors whisky I wudn't drink m'self, har, har, har!
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