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Updated: June 12, 2025
"It ain't only Luke Tweezy who's gotta win out, and you know it. And they's an 'if' the size of Pike's Peak between us and winning out. I tell you, I don't like it. It's too damn dangerous." "Shore, it's dangerous," assented Racey, slowly revolving his glass between his thumb and fingers, and wondering how far he dared go with this McFluke person. "But a gent has to live."
If they was why ain't Jack Harpe done something before this? Tell me that. Why ain't he?" "Damfino." "Shore you don't. You was mistaken, Racey. Badly mistaken. Yore judgment was out by a mile. She's all just Luke Tweezy and that lousy skunk of a Lanpher trying to act spotty. No more than that." "Well, ain't that enough?" "Shore, but " "But nothing.
"Can you hang on all right at a trot if I lead yore hoss?" he queried, sharply, his fingers busy with the knot of the rope. "I cue-can and gug-guide him, too," she stuttered, picking up her reins and making a successful effort to sit up straight. "Lul-look! At Tut-Tweezy's huh-house!" He looked. There were certainly three lanterns bobbing about in the open behind the house of Luke Tweezy.
And my feelings are tender to-day most awful tender, Luke. Don't you go for to lacerate 'em. I ain't owing you a dime, you know." To this Luke Tweezy made no comment. But he resumed his squattering about the floor and his poking and delving in the piles of hay. He raised a dust that flew up in clouds. He coughed and snorted and snuffed. Racey and Swing Tunstall laughed.
"I come to see Mrs. Dale," replied Tweezy, his leathery features wrinkling in a grimace intended to pass for a propitiating smile. Racey's stare was venomous. "Tweezy," he drawled, "I done told you something about admiring to see you put these women off this ranch, didn't I?" "Oh, you was just a li'l hasty. I understand. That's all right. I've done forgot all about it." "So I see. So I see.
"We-ell, I dunno. You see, Racey " "I nun-need the money," interrupted Racey. "I'm broke bub-broke bad. Swing's broke, too. That's too bad I mean that's two bub-boke brad whistle twice for the crossing I mean Aw, hell, I know whu-what I mean if-fif you don't. You lul-lend me that mum-money, Lul-Luke, like a good feller." Luke Tweezy shook a regretful head.
When I found out they were going to rob the safe, I had to do something. Why, they might have taken the very paper I wanted, and somehow later Tweezy might have gotten it back. I couldn't allow that. I knew that I must get at what was inside the safe before they did.
Without the slightest difficulty he leaped that pitfall of the drunken, the letter L. "Luke," repeated Racey Dawson, struck by a sudden thought. "What's this about Luke? You mean Luke Tweezy?" The old man rubbed his shaving-brush adown Racey's neck-muscles. "I mean Luke Tweezy," he said. "Lots o' folks don't like Luke. They say he's mean. But they ain't nothin' mean about Luke.
Reluctantly Racey dropped the leg he held and allowed Tweezy to come to earth on his hands and knees. "What do you want?" inquired Molly, regarding Tweezy much as she would have regarded a poisonous reptile. "I want to see yore mother," snuffled Tweezy, applying his sleeve to his nose. He had in the mixup smote his swell fork with the organ in question and it had begun to bleed. "Why?"
"Then what didja let him get away for?" persisted Racey. "Luke Tweezy said he left him here, and he said he'd stay here. That was yore job to see he stayed here." "Who are " began the suspicious McFluke. "Nemmine who I am," rapped out Racey, who believed he had formed a correct estimate of McFluke. "I'm somebody who knows more about this deal than you do, and that's enough for you to know.
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