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Get whatever horses you like, I've got a saddle for you up at the bunk-house, an' you c'n meet me beyond the corral sunup to-morrow mornin'." He nodded to the boys and turned on his heel, walking off in the direction of the river. Seeing that the fun was over the boys scattered, and Wilbur, finding that his friend Bob-Cat was going to stay at the ranch over-night, attached himself to him.
He would have liked to stop at a number of places they passed, and remain for life, what there was left of it; but he obediently walked on over any kind of an old road that came in his way, and solaced himself with whatever kind of a bite the roadside afforded. He was becoming a much-travelled horse. He knew a threshing-machine by sight now, and considered it no more than a prairie bob-cat.
'You're just in time big strike in the Bob-cat district. Poor man's mining. Placer, and durned good placer, right on the top of the ground. The mining gentleman I spoke about is having his breakfast now. Suppose you go in and have a talk with him? Nice man, drunk or sober, although excitable when he's had a little too much, or not quite enough. He might put you onto a good thing.
T-i-g-e-r!" roared the boys, grabbing Chunky and tossing him back and forth, making of him a veritable medicine ball. "What's the matter with Chunky?" cried Walter. "Chunky's all right," chorused the band. "Who's no tenderfoot?" "Chunky's Brown's no tenderfoot." Puffing out his cheeks, and squaring his shoulders, Stacy swaggered over to the dead bob-cat, violently pulling its ear.
"You is sure annoyin'," he said in an aggrieved manner, "askin' me to go on record so plumb sudden. I'm no mind-reader." There was a pause, but the Ranger quietly waited. "It's embarrassin'," said Bob-Cat, "to try an' trot out a verdic' on snap-jedgment. I don't know." Rifle-Eye, quite unperturbed, looked at him steadily and inquiringly. "You know what you think," he said.
"When did romance begin with you, Little Lees?" I asked. "I think it was on that day when I came bounding up to the door of the old San Miguel church," Eloise replied, "and saw you looking like a big, brown bob-cat, or something else, that might have slept in the Hondo 'Royo all your life.
No sooner was she out of sight than Mr. Bob-cat stole to the nest. "'Remember your honor, warned the little voice inside. "'Bother honor. I'd rather have an egg, muttered Mr. Bob-cat, and pulled one out of the nest. He bit a hole in one end and sucked out the contents. It was so good he took another. This led to a third, and finally Mr. Bob-cat had sucked every one of those eggs.
I'm a bob-cat, and I'm not aching to be pawed by you or any other hare-brained he-mutt. So now, right from this minute, keep your distance! Is that clear? Keep your distance, or I'll break your head in with this neck-yoke!" Poor Bud!
They app'ints a day for the Bob-cat to be shot; an' as he ain't present at the trial none, leavin' his end of the game to be looked after by his reelatives, they orders a kettle-tender or tribe crier to notify the Bob-cat when an' where he's to come an' have said sentence execooted upon him.
I jerked myself free from his grasp and ran out to my pony. At the corner of the church stood the girl, her cheeks flushed, her eyes blazing defiance, her rumpled curls in a tangle about her face. "I hate Marcos, he's so cruel, and" her voice softened and the defiant eyes grew mischievous "you aren't a bob-cat. You're a Look out!"
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