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I'd a'most as soon have one six boys as another, yit if I had to pick out six I believe I'd take Harry Joslyn, Gid Mackall, Alf Russell, Monty Scruggs, Jim Humphreys and Sandy Baker." "And Pete Skidmore," added Shorty. "We've got to take special care o' that little rat. Besides, I want to. Somehow I've took quite a fancy to the brat." "Yes, we must take little Pete," assented Si.
McGillicuddy stepped over to the right of the line stopped in front of Harry Joslyn and Gid Mackall. Shorty full-cocked his gun with two sharp clicks. "You two step forward one pace," said Capt. McGillicuddy to the two radiant boys, who obeyed with a jump.
"Now, Gid Mackall," said Harry, "play fair, if you ever did in your life. I won't have none o' your shenanniging." "Don't talk to me about shenanniging, you little imp," responded Gid cordially. "You can't do a straight thing if you try, and you never try. You never fisted-up with me on a ball-bat that you didn't slip your hand so's to come out ahead."
Sam laughed harshly. "I'm used to it," he said. "Of course, it's a different thing for you." "I don't care for myself," she returned. "But my brother-in-law " "He's been warning you against me, eh?" asked Sam bitterly. "Naturally, you have to attend to what he says. It's all right." He made as if to drive on. Miss Mackall seemed to be about to throw herself in front of the horses.
"Sh! so do I," echoed Gid Mackall. They all listened with painful eagerness. "Hoss's hoofs and breakin' limbs, sure's you're a foot high," whispered Harry. "And they're comin' down the hill this way." "That's right. They're a'most to the crick now," assented Gid. "I'm going to shoot." "No; I've got the right to a first shot," said Jim. "You fellers hold off."
Upon the evidence submitted Judge Mackall held the prisoner for trial by the grand jury. "It was just after the Judge's announcement that 'John Smith, then sitting in the prisoners cage, was seized with the attack of angina pectoris which ended so fatally a few minutes later.
Forgetting the supper, she began to dig in her dunnage bag. Getting out a lace collar, she flew to the mirror to put it on. Her hair dissatisfied her, and she made it fluff out a little under the rich braid which crowned her brow. Finally, she ruthlessly tore a rose from her new hat and pinned it to her girdle as she had seen Jennie Mackall do.
"What'd you do to them boys back there?" demanded Si. "Didn't do nothin' to 'em. Sw'ar to God A'mighty I didn't." "That telegraph pole will be just the thing to hang him on," suggested Harry to Gid. "We could put him on a flat car and push the car out from under him. I'll look around for a rope, Gid, and you git ready to climb the pole." "He did do something to 'em, Sargint," said Gid Mackall.
"I'll fall back and keep the boys together," said Shorty, as soon as an intermission allowed them to speak. "Alright," said Si. "Look out for little Pete." And Si began to forge stolidly ahead. "Goodness, Sarjint, you're not going to travel in such a storm as this," gasped Gid Mackall. "Certainly," Si called back. "Come on. We've got to reach that mill tonight, no matter what happens.
"Probably it was Corpril Elliott's good management," suggested Gid Mackall, whose hero-worship of Shorty grew apace. "I tell you there aint a trick o' soldierin' that he aint up to." "Corpril Elliott's?" sneered Harry Joslyn. "You're just stuck on Corpril Elliott. If it was anybody's good management it was Sargint Klegg's. I tell you, he's the boss.
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