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Updated: May 25, 2025
"I'm afraid you are doomed to disappointment." "Ya-as?" asked Red with a rising inflection. "You will not want him now," replied the monk. Red laughed sarcastically and Hopalong smiled. "There ain't a-going to be no argument about it. Trot him out," ordered Red, grimly. The monk turned to Hopalong. "Do you, too, want him?" Hopalong nodded. "My friends, he is safe from your punishment."
"Ya-as if," murmured the expressman. "However, nobody's going to get it for any less believe me! Least of all that Fontaine. I hate these Kanucks, anyway. I know him. He's trying to jew me down," said Joe, angrily. "Wal, you take it to the city," advised Walky. "You kin make yer spec on it there, ye say."
He didn't want another inquest on his estate. No, sir! So I had to fix her up in the dark. Ya-as! 'I took big chances, too, while those other three held on to her and I worked her up to full power. My Renzalaer's no ventilation-fan to pull against. But I climbed out just in time. I'd hitched the signallin' lamp to her tail so's we could track her.
"Da's sumpin' got t' be did fo' all dese starbin white ladies an' gemmen ya-as sah! Dey is jes' about drivin' me mad. I kyan't stan' it." "What can't you stand, Nicodemus?" demanded Mr. Carter, good-naturedly. "Dey is a-groanin' an' a-takin' on powerful bad 'cause dey ain't no dining kyar cotched up wid us yet." "Dining car caught up with us?" gasped Nan and Bess together.
He was right quick wid hes temper, an' w'en hes mad was up Glo-ree! he made de quahtahs hot! I wondah wot he do to dat yaller gal w'en dat raggedty goose come on de table. "It done got cooked to a tu'n ya-as! I nebber see a browner, nor a plumper goose.
"What a bo-ar it must be to the poatas to b' wearied so by stoopid people," observed a tall, stout, superlative fop with sleepy eyes and long whiskers to another fop in large-check trousers. "Ya-as," assented the checked trousers. "Take your seats, gentlemen," said a magnificent guard, over six feet high, with a bushy beard. "O-ah!" said the dandies, getting into their compartment.
"Are yu in the habit of payin' early mornin' calls to this here corral?" persisted Mr. Cassidy, playing with the gun. "Ya-as. That's my business I'm th' captain of the vigilantes." "That's too bad," sympathized Mr. Cassidy, moving forward a step. Mr. Travennes looked put out and backed off. "What yu mean, stickin' me up this-away?" He asked indignantly. "Yu needn't go an' get mad," responded Mr.
Ya-as.... Wills kin be busted, but this here docyment I calc'late it would take mighty powerful hammerin' to knock it apart." "And, Mary," said Bob, "if I were you I shouldn't mention the finding of it." "Not to a soul," said Scattergood. "We'll take it mighty soft and spry and shet it up in Bob's safe.... Anybody know the combination to it besides you, Bob?" "Nobody but you, Mr. Baines."
"Ugh, terrible! I'll stick to Pan. What d'you do when you're not Panning?" Then, at the bewilderment in his face: "What's your job?" "I work in the Ideal Garage. Say, you're pretty nosey, ain't you?" "Yes, pretty.... That accounts for your nails, h'm?" She looked at her own brown paws. "'Bout as bad as mine. I drove one hundred and fifty miles to-day." "Ya-as, you did!" "I did! Started at six.
"Ya-as she is, the doll-faced simp! Why, say, she never wiped up a floor in her life, or baked a cake, or stood on them feet of hers. She couldn't cut up a loaf of bread decent. Bleedin' France! Ha! That's rich, that is." She thrust her chin out brutally, and her eyes narrowed to slits. "She's goin' over there after that fella of hers. She's chasin' him.
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