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Updated: June 6, 2025
Once in a while he'd shasee up an' stick his hand in the water. It would be too hot, mebby. ""Yere, you Ben!" he'd roar. "What be you aimin' at? Do you-all want to kill the old man Do you think you're scaldin' a hawg?" "Then this yere Ben; would get conscience-stricken an' pour in a bar'l or two of cold water.
N-never heard of a hold-up gettin' up a petition for better street lights, did you? No, an' you n-never will. An' you never n-noticed a guy who was aimin' to bushwhack another from the brush go to clearin' off the sage first. He ain't l-lookin' for no open arguments on the m-merits of his shootin'. Not none. Same with that Cheyenne bird an' his stocky pal acrost the table.
"I was aimin' a wallop at that general," complained Steve, "but something blew him right out of my hand. Come on up to Madison Avenoo. I heard they was goin' to save America up there, too." "Can't," said Wilbur. "Got to see a man." "Well, so long, Buck!" He waved to them as they joined the northward moving crowd. "Gee, gosh!" he said. "No, sir; Mr. Whipple hasn't come in yet.
He came upon them in a few minutes, riding toward him at full speed, with Tim Sullivan in the van, too drunk to stand erect, but able to balance himself on a horse's back, drunk or sober. "We come acrost Santry and the Sheriff a while back," explained Big Bob Lawson, one of Wade's own punchers. "They must be in town by now. We was aimin' to light into 'em, but Santry wouldn't hear of it.
But circus er no circus, ye ain't a goin' to sidetrack me out'n them funeral arrangements. If ye can sing 'The Lament, yer engaged." "Why, who's dead, Jim?" asked Landy innocently. "Did ole Selim die, er is hit yer favorite hound dawg?" "None sich," replied the old man heatedly. "It's me my funeral en I'm aimin' to make a splendid time outen it.
"Oh, put those things down, gentlemen anywhere there on the grass; they can be carried in later. It was so kind of you both." "Hey, there!" sang out the driver, growing impatient, "if you two gents are aimin' to go down town with this outfit, you'd better be pilin' in lively, fer I can't stay here all day."
"Aside from yourself, I have but one close relative, my brother's son. You two, then, are to be my children." "How old is he?" "About twenty." "But if you got a real heir, where do I come in?" she wondered. "Share and share alike. He's my nephew: you're Milly's niece." She reflected, a puzzled frown coming to her forehead. "You're aimin' to give us both a whole lot, ain't you?
"I hear you seen something of a thinnish, dark feller named Bard." "What d'you want with him?" asked Sally with dangerous calm. "I was aimin' to meet up with him. That's all." "Partner, if you want to stand in solid around here, don't let out that you're a friend of his. He ain't none too popular; that's straight and puttin' it nice and easy."
"Nothin' of the kind," denied Stearns, indignation in his voice. "I done brought up that boy by hand learned him all he knows about ridin' and ropin'. He'll do to take along." "Hmp! He always fooled you, Brad. Different here. I'm aimin' to give him the wallopin' of his life when I meet up with him. And that'll be soon, if he's up there in the rocks.
Me en the kid are aimin' to do a lot of romancin' eround mebbe tomorry." Arriving at the cabin, Welborn took a can of gasoline through the opening out to the pump. He tinkered with the engine and presently a steady "chug-chug-chug" reverberated down the valley. Mechanical mining was on at the Silver Falls Project.
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