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Updated: June 4, 2025
"How long ago was this?" asked Yeager. "About an hour since we first saw him. Beats all how he ever made his getaway. We were right after him when he gave us the slip." "Oh, he gave you the slip, did he?" "Dropped into some hole and pulled it in after him. These hills are built for hide and seek, looks like." "Notice the color of his horse?" "It was a roan, Jim. Something like that nester's."
Yeager, being handier with an ax than the rest of us, broke open the lid of the chest. A piece of coarse sacking covered the contents. Blythe lifted this and disclosed to our astonished eyes a jumble of stones and sand. We looked at our find and at each other. Tom put our feeling into words. "Bilked, by Moses!"
"When a man marries a queen he ought to grade up with her on the hoof dressed dried corned any old way from the chaparral to the packing- house. Lots of folks thinks it's funny, Webb, that you don't have the say-so on the Nopalito. I ain't reflectin' none on Miz Yeager she's the finest little lady between the Rio Grande and next Christmas but a man ought to be boss of his own camp."
Often Baldy Cummings, who liked the cowpuncher because Steve was always willing to help him get the properties ready for the required sets, would put on the gloves with him and try him out for a round or two. Manderson, the melancholy comedian, occasionally dropped in with some other member of the company. The same thought was in the mind of all of them except Yeager himself.
My wooden face told no tales. "No chance. The beggar's too shy. I've had enough. How about you, Yeager?" "Me to," the Arizonian laughed easily, and he hauled up the line. I strolled forward to the pilot house, stopping to chat for an instant with Miss Berry, who lay in a steamer chair under the awning. For I had no intention of letting the men suspect that Dugan had told me anything of importance.
At eight o'clock on the following morning Bud Turner rolled from his saddle in front of the Nopalito ranch-house, and stumbled with whizzing rowels toward the gallery. Bud was in charge of the bunch of beef-cattle that was to strike the trail that morning for San Antonio. Mrs. Yeager was on the gallery watering a cluster of hyacinths growing in a red earthenware jar.
Threewit came to Steve while Cummings was preparing the stage set for a dissolve. "Wish you'd look over this scenario, Yeager. The old man sent it out to me to see if we can pull off the riding end of it. Scene twenty-seven is the sticker. Here's the idea: You've been thrown from your horse and your foot's caught in the stirrup.
We don't want to drive Healy away yet. If the kid's in it he would go right to Healy with the whole story." Yeager swore softly. "It's all Brill's fault. He's been leading Phil into devilment for two years now." "Yes." "And all the time been playing himself for the leader of us fellows that are against the rustlers and that Bear Creek outfit," continued Jim bitterly.
He was acutely disappointed at the escape of his enemy, since it was not likely the man would ever be caught again so neatly. But now he forced himself to look beyond this to the consequences. Yeager would tell all he knew when he reached Los Robles. With the troopers warned against him Harrison knew he could no longer move to and fro as freely on the American side.
Tell him we don't care a jackstraw for his mutiny, and that if he lives through it we'll take him in irons to Panama and have him hanged as high as Haman. Get that, my man?" demanded Blythe. "Yes, sir. 'Anged as 'igh as 'Aman. Hi'll remember, sir." Sam turned to me and spoke in a low voice. "Before this fellow goes I want Mott to hear what he has said. Take Yeager up with you and relieve him.
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