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Updated: June 15, 2025
Of yore they were like fleeting hinds, that in the wild wood are the prey of jackals, and pards, and wolves, and wander helpless, strengthless, empty of the joy of battle. Even so the Trojans of old cared never to wait and face the wrath and the hands of the Achaians, not for a moment.
"He's new and he's white!" "Yes, but he and I are pards," Carmena reassured her. "Shake hands. He has come to help us." "To help us?" The young girl held out a timid hand. "You you won't side with Cochise? You won't let him take me?" "'Course he won't," put in Carmena. "Didn't I tell you we're pards? His name is Jack Lennon, and he's a real man."
"Listen to him holler, would you?" interrupted Steve. "Hold on, Toby, we're coming as fast as we c'n sprint! Keep up a little longer! It's all right! Your pards are on the job!" Max thought he saw Trapper Jim laughing about this time. From this he imagined the other must have guessed the true state of affairs, and that poor Toby could not be in such desperate straits as they believed.
It was then Shefford realized catastrophe, and cold fear gnawed at his vitals, so that he was sick. "Joe, what has happened?" he asked, with the blood thick in his heart. "Hadn't you better tell me?" demanded the Mormon, and a red wave blotted out the haggard shade of his face. "You talk like a fool," said Shefford, sharply, and he strode right up to Joe. "See here, Shefford, we've been pards.
"Wal, pards," he remarked, heaving a great sigh, "I don't see that there's anything partic'lar fur me to say. When a thing is fairly proved onto you, you can't make nothin' by denyin' of the same. I've been tryin' to walk a chalk line ever since the angel arrove among us. Two or three times I fell over backward and bruised my head, owin' to my tryin' to stand up too straight.
By and by something roused him. Stevens was once more talking, but with a changed tone. "Feller's name was Brown," he rambled. "We fell out over a hoss I stole from him in Huntsville. He stole it fuss. Brown's one of them sneaks afraid of the open he steals an' pretends to be honest. Say, Buck, mebbe you'll meet Brown some day You an' me are pards now."
"The road agents only fired four times," I told him. "Them and your pards must have been pretty nigh together for a minute, then," he said, pointing to the ground. I glanced down, and sure enough, there were six empty cartridge-shells.
But, then, I'm queer on cougars. Have had many a cougar trail me at night. Ain't sayin' I was scared. But I don't care for that brand of varmint.... Milt, you goin' to stay down awhile?" "Yes, I'll hang around some." "Come over to the ranch. Glad to see you any time. Some old huntin' pards of yours are workin' for me." "Thanks, Beasley. I reckon I'll come over."
He allows it's the box that a-way makin' malev'lent bluffs at him. An' say, pards, it would have made you proud of your country an' its starry flag to see Augustus arch himse'f for war on them o'casions. "'Not that Augustus is malignant or evil disposed, nacheral.
As thar's no sky pilot to confide in, this drunkard figgers that Peets 'll do, an' with that he onloads on Peets how, bein' as he is a stage book-keep over in Red Dog, he's in cahoots with a outfit of route agents an' gives 'em the word when it's worth while to stand-up the stage. An' among other crim'nal pards of his this terrified person names that outlaw Silver Phil.
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