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"Mary, Mary, Mary!" he cried within himself as he hurried home. And in remote burial grounds the ancient de Laneys on both sides turned over in their lead-lined coffins. That evening Old Mizzou returned from town with a watery eye and a mind that ran to horses. "He is shore a fine cayuse," he asserted with extreme impressiveness. "He is one of them broncs you jest loves. An' he's jes 's cheap!
Hopped away with broncs belongin' to you boys because they knew it'd be safe." "Picked easy marks, did they?" asked the puncher sardonically. The man with the razor tilted the chin of his customer and began to scrape. "Well, o'course you're only boys. They took advantage of that and done you a meanness." Dug Doble came into the shop, very grim about the mouth.
Wade rode down to White Slides that day, and at the evening meal he casually asked Moore if he had been riding Spottie of late. "Sure. What other horse could I ride? Do you think I'm up to trying one of those broncs?" asked Moore, in derision. "Reckon you haven't been leavin' any tracks up Buffalo Park way?" The cowboy slammed down his knife. "Say, Wade, are you growing dotty?
I don't care how good he is, they're goin' to give me four hundred head of broncs and a cute little pigeon to look out for 'em. Me, I'm goin' to lay back and learn to play the guitar. I'm goin' to learn it by note." "You sure got the makin's of a squaw-man," I told him. "Seems like I've over-read your hand. I used to think you had somethin' in you besides a appetite, but I was wrong.
Got your own broncs, too. Sheriff Burns called up Daniels not to let any horses go out from his corral to anybody without his O.K. I happened to be cinching at the time the 'phone message came, so I concluded that order wasn't for me, and lit out kinder unceremonious." Hastily the fugitives donned the new costumes and dominos, turned their notes over to Denver, and swung to their saddles.
You know why we trailed you." Doble edged into the talk. He was still short of wind, but to his thick wits a denial seemed necessary. "We ain't got yore broncs." "Who mentioned our broncs?" Hart demanded, swiftly. "Called Ad a horsethief, didn't you?" "So he is. You, too. You've got our ponies. Not in yore vest pockets, but hid out in the brush somewheres.
He looked straight at Yankie. "Don't get biggety, Joe. I'm not askin' you or any other man whether I can ride to rescue a friend when he's in trouble. You don't own these broncs, an' if you did we'd take 'em just the same." The voice of Wrayburn was still gentle, but it no longer pleaded for understanding. The words were clean-cut and crisp. "I'll show you!" flung back the foreman with an oath.
"Lead on, Miss Macduff, and perhaps you know the rest of the quotation." "Yes," gloomily retorted the girl. "Don't blame me if we meet up with those broncs. The joke will be on you." "How about your safety? Wouldn't you have a better chance if mounted?" "Want to back out, do you?" "By no means. My idea is to dump the pack from your pony.
"One of them damn broncs cut me with his forefoot when I was unhitching. Did you git track of them anywhere? They run off." "They're hanging around here," said Wid indifferently. He bent over the wounded member. "So struck you with his front hoof? That's a bad leg, Sim. It's getting black; and here's some red streaks." "I'm some scared about it," said Sim. "Seems to me I'd better get to a doctor.
He was a-riding off our pinto that we left here by mistake last winter, with our saddle and things, and a-leading your two broncs, so we just stopped him and gathered 'em in, and I reckon they're all our'n now, most of 'em, anyhow.
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