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Updated: June 2, 2025
You start this gorl-durned racket like a pack o' weak-headed fools, yearnin' to pitch away what's been chucked right into your fool laps jest fer one o' Blue Grass Pete's fat-head notions. Well, wot's doin'? I ask." "You ke'p that ugly map o' yours closed," cried Pete hotly. "You ain't bein' robbed any." "Guess I'll see to that," retorted Beasley, with a grin.
I got a thousand dollars right here," he pulled out a packet of bills from his hip pocket, and held them up for the other's inspection "an' them dollars says ther's gold on your claim. An' I'm yearnin' to touch ha'f that gold. But I'm takin' no chances. I want it all wrote down reg'lar so folks can't say I sneaked around you, an' got it for nix.
"Now, Jack, you're gwinter have the laugh on me, for the old mood is on me an' I'm yearnin' to do this jes' like you yearn to hold up the bank ag'in. It's the old instinct gettin' to wurk. But, Jack, you see this mine ain't so bad. God sometimes provides in an onexpected way." "What is it?" asked Jack. The old man chuckled again.
You see, most folks ain't a heap o' time to listen to other folks' troubles. Most everybody's jest yearnin' to tell their own." "Troubles?" Jeff smiled in his own peculiarly shadowy fashion. "You don't seem to figure this valley's any sort of trouble, nor its associations. But maybe there's a bone or two hidden around you don't figure to show me." Bud remained silent for some moments.
The thing jest dropped, an' that party hummed fer a whiles. Brown's gal up an' let go. Sez she, 'Here, guess I'm the dandy o' this run, an' I ain't settin' around while no old hen from Dyke Hole gits scoopin' prizes. She's goin' to lick me till I can't see, ef she's yearnin' fer that pool.
I'm sousing all the liquor I can get my hooks on, an' it's all the sweeter because of you boys. Outside my duty to the railroad company I wouldn't raise a finger to stop a gallon of good rye comin' into town, no, not if the penitentiary was yearnin' to swallow me right up." Fyles's purposeful eyes surveyed the man with a thoughtful smile. "Just so," he said coolly.
I'd set up a reward. Ten thousand dollars. It was right out o' my own bank roll. Wal, I set it up the notice o' reward one night, an' next day got the news we was all yearnin' for. Bob Whitstone, as he called himself, brought it right along to me. I hadn't no use fer the feller up to then. He was weak-kneed. And, in a way, had fallen fer Ju Penrose's rye.
It was Bud who voiced the thought of both partners immediately after a close interrogation of the injured man. "Looks like some low-bred son-of-a-hobo owes you a reckonin' he's yearnin' to git quit of, Jeff," he said, the moment they were alone. "They're workin' this way all the time. They ain't so much as smelt around the old 'T.T. territory in days. D'you make it that way?" Jeff nodded.
You ain't yearnin' fer that gang to come snoopin' around Suffering Creek. So I'm guessin' we'll hev to pass a gold-stage out o' her some time." "You're mad," cried Minky in consternation. "That's as may be," retorted Bill, quite unruffled. "Anyways, I guess I spent a hundred dollars in a mighty good deal this day if it was rotten bad poker."
There was 'er so young an' fair an' full o' life, an' there was you so pale an' nigh to death one leg in the grave an' there was me s' full o' years an' wisdom an' sorrer for ye both oh, my pore old bowels was fair yearnin' over ye-" "Lord, Old Un," expostulated Joe, "you keep them bowels o' yours out of it "
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