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"You keep it, ma'am, an' buy yorese'f somethin' for a p-pretty. I'd jes' b-blow it anyhow. Hope you'll be r-real happy. If this yere young s-scalawag don't treat you h-handsome, Tom an' Dud'll be glad to ride over an' beat him up proper 'most any time you give 'em the high sign. Am I right, boys?" "Sure are," they said, grinning bashfully.
Ef you ever want to run fer office all you got to do is to announce yorese'f. Old Hunter wus down at Bill Stone's this mornin' as we passed buyin' his fine hoss to replace yore'n." "I reckon they've run Toot Wambush clean off," put in Mrs. Bradley, looking significantly at Harriet. She expected the girl to reply, but Harriet only avoided her glance. Mrs.
You can't bully me!" he cried shrilly. "Don't pull yore picket-pin, Bromfield," advised Lindsay. "I've elected myself boss of the rodeo. What I say goes. You'll save yorese'f a heap of worry if you make up yore mind to that right away." "What do you want? What are you trying to do? I'm not a barroom brawler like Durand. I don't intend to fight with you."
I tell you that you're made in His image. Bite on that thought hard whenever you're up against it an' want to hide yorese'f in a hole. Every time you get too s-scared to play yore hand out, you're playin' it low down on yore C-creator." Bob came to another phase of the situation. "What about June?" "Well, what about her?" "She's gone with Houck. He'll not take her home."
The revenue men asked me if I'd seen them, and I simply refused to answer. They didn't get anything out of me." "That's just what I'd 'a' done, but I wish you'd 'a' set yorese'f right jest now, fer them fellers certainly think you give 'em away, an' they'll tell the gang about it." "Well, I didn't, so what does it matter?"
The cattleman's hand gripped that of Dillon firmly. "Shucks! Tha's foolishness," Bob murmured, embarrassed. "I'm scared stiff if you want to know." "I reckon that's why you're aimin' for to make a target of yorese'f again," Hawks suggested ironically. "Damn 'f I'd do it for the best man alive, let alone Jake Houck. No, sir. I'll go a reasonable way, but I quit this side of suicide. I sure do."
"Blister sure ropes an' hogties a heap of longhorn words." The justice scratched his bald poll and elucidated. "A s-sinecure, boys, is when a f-fellow rides the g-grub line habitual an' don't rope no d-dogies for his stack o' wheats an' c-coffee." He wagged a fat forefinger at Bob. "You gotta quit hellin' around now an' behave yorese'f like a respectable m-married man. You gotta dig in an' work.
The white figures had dismounted at the jail. They paused at the gate a moment, then filed into the yard and stood at the door. The leader rapped on it loudly. "Hello in thar, Tarpley Brown, show yorese'f!" he cried. There was a silence for a moment. In the moonlight the body of men looked like a snowdrift against the jail. The same voice spoke again: "Don't you keep us waitin' long, nuther, Tarp.
Just then Luke Bradley ran up the sidewalk and out on the veranda near Westerfelt. He had a warning on his lips, but seeing the critical situation he said nothing. A white, tigerish look came into the face of Westerfelt. The cords of his neck tightened as he leaned slowly towards Wambush. He was about to spring. "Don't be a fool, John," cautioned Bradley. "Be ashamed o' yorese'f, Toot!
You are welcome in my house ef you'll behave yorese'f decent, but you cayn't come under my roof to goad him to desperation. Now I've said my say. Thar's the door ef you dare open yore mouth agin. Thar ain't a speck o' Christian sperit in you. I'm ashamed to call you neighbor." With an expression of mingled anger and fear in her face, Mrs.
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