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Updated: June 2, 2025
As my son Bob says he's a humorous boy is my Bob, Miss he says, says he, the trains can't awaken us, but they do awaken noo trains of ideas, especially w'en they stops right opposite the winder an' blows off steam, or whistles like mad for five minutes at a time. I sometimes think that Bob is right, an' that's w'y baby have took to yellin' an' mischief with such a 'igh 'and.
Bud's shot the first of the fight was the signal for general firing, though, as usual in such engagements, the initial fusilade was wild on both sides; mercifully so, it seemed ordered, for no one was hurt by the opening volley. "There's going to be a hot time!" shouted Yellin' Kid, as he spurred forward. "And I don't see th' skunk that spoiled my hat! Where is he?"
After that we'll nab Del Pinzo and his bunch if we can," he added, as a saving clause. "Suits me!" remarked Yellin' Kid, taking off his hat and looking at the two bullet holes. "That nabbin' part is what I want t' play at," and his grin suggested that when he and the Greaser met there would be some interesting happenings.
For though the sides of the great, natural bowl were green up to a certain distance, beyond that, and between the rim and a point half way down, they were almost perpendicular in straightness. And, being of rock, they would, it seemed, afford scarcely a foot or hand-hold for the most expert "human fly." "There must be a way in," declared Slim. "And out, too," added Yellin' Kid.
Why, he'd a-cut a swath through the free an' easy big business gamblers an' pirates of them days; just as he cut a swath through the hearts of the ladies when he went gallopin' past on that big horse of his, sword clatterin', spurs jinglin', his long hair flyin', straight as an Indian, clean-built an' graceful as a blue-eyed prince out of a fairy book an' a Mexican caballero all rolled into one; just as he cut a swath through the Johnny Rebs in Civil War days, chargin' with his men all the way through an' back again, an' yellin' like a wild Indian for more.
He listened to something the bearer of the flag of truce had to say, and then the officer announced: "The captives aren't here!" "Aren't here!" cried Bud, Nort and Dick together. "Don't let nim fool you!" shouted Yellin' Kid. "Order them to march out, unarmed and then we'll search their camp," called Captain Marshall.
The fires were made, grub cooked and as night settled down all prepared for much-needed rest. "Well, another day or two and we ought to catch up to 'em," observed Bud, as he prepared to turn in with the others. "That's right," agreed Yellin' Kid. "They can't have traveled any faster than we did, and we took a shorter trail."
He'll pick a row with the Colonel on some street, say, w'en he's comin' from his home after lunch. The coon kin bump into Langd'n an' call him names. Then w'en ole fireworks sails into 'im, yellin' about what 'e'd do in Mississippi, the coon pulls a gun on the Colonel an' fires a couple o' shots random.
There was a sharp crack and the hat of Yellin' Kid, who rode immediately behind Bud, sailed off his head, at the same time that a bullet zipped viciously over the pursuers. "Close call that, Kid!" remarked Snake, leaning over as his horse galloped forward, and picking up his friend's hat. "Close nothin'!" snapped out Yellin' Kid.
"Four Eyes seems to be making himself right at home," remarked Dick, as the three boys started toward the corral, intending to saddle their ponies and ride over to the scene of the cattle- rustling operations. "Yes," agreed Bud. Henry Mellon was in the midst of Old Billee, Buck Tooth, Snake and Yellin' Kid, and, as the boy ranchers watched, they saw N Four Eyes twirling his lariat above his head.
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