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Updated: June 11, 2025
As he wrung the ranchman's hand and turned to walk out of the life of his old comrades and the woman he loved, he heard the minister repeat: "The blessing of the Almighty Father rest upon and abide with you, now and forevermore. Amen." "Evermore. Amen!" faltered Dick, bidding a last mute farewell to Allen. The old ranchman watched him quietly as he mounted his horse and rode down the trail.
"He'd have come right on here," declared the ranchman's wife. "No. 'Twarn't Bob." "Then I thought it might have belonged to that man who stopped us," suggested Frances. "If that's so, I reckon he got square for his loss, didn't he?" cried the lady. "I reckon that chest was filled with valuables, eh?" Fortunately, Frances had swallowed her coffee and the mule team rattled to the door.
Then Wade learned how the big man's reputation for tremendous strength had been won. Cruelly, implacably, those great, ape-like arms entwined about the ranchman's body until the very breath was crushed out of it. Resorting to every trick he knew, he strove desperately to free himself, but all the strength in his own muscular body was powerless to break the other's hold.
The cavalcade halted; the big man tumbled from his saddle and came straddling through the high grass, waving his hat and yelling. "Blaze! You old scoundrel!" Dave cried, and seized one of the ranchman's palms while Alaire shook the other. "Say! We're right glad to see you-all," Jones exclaimed.
The following year, after the Presidential campaign which placed Cleveland in the White House, Roosevelt determined, as we saw in the letters I have quoted, to abandon the East for a time and to devote himself to a ranchman's life.
Johnson had, after an absence of some months, come back and lived without molestation amid the shifting population. Now and then, too, some of the older residents fancied they recognized, under slouched sombreros, the faces of some of his former "crowd" about the "Ranchman's Home," as his gaudy saloon was called.
Roosevelt's membership in the New York Assembly, he began his life on a ranch in North Dakota. In this way he not only learned much about the Western people, but came to know the ranchman's life, and to have his first chance to shoot big game. He had married Miss Lee in 1880, the autumn of the year he left college. Less than four years afterwards his wife died, following the birth of a daughter.
Sam and his mates watched "the Old Cap" with wonder. Victorino's gaze was fixed upon the doughty ranchman's back with many different emotions in his trouble-torn mind. He was wondering what would happen to him if Captain Rugley ever learned that he had told a falsehood about that note. He was so scared that he dared not lead the party to a false trail.
"If I were he, and getting the attention he is " "From whom?" demanded Frances, turning on him sharply. "From Ming, of course," responded her father, soberly, but with his eyes a-twinkle. And then Frances fled upstairs again, her cheeks burning as she heard the old ranchman's mellow laughter. Pratt lay on his bed with his head swathed in bandages and his shoulder in a brace.
There was a sheath fastened to his saddle for the weapon, and he finally left it therein. Pratt really thought that nothing of a serious nature had happened to his girl friend. Seeing Ratty M'Gill had reminded him that the cowpuncher had once troubled Frances, and Pratt had ridden down this way to offer his escort to the old ranchman's daughter.
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