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Updated: June 23, 2025
Perhaps she had no eye just now for a thing that Brent had noted as significant; the gleam in the eyes that bent upon her arrival. "Does ye aim ter ride with us, Mr. Brent?" she inquired and when he nodded his assent she said deliberately: "Ye comes from ther city an' this hyar's liable ter be a rough trip. I reckon I ought ter warn ye whilst thar's still time ter turn back.
"Wal, I reckon the grass would burn back even ag'in thet wind," replied Creech. "I'd hate to see fire in the woods now before the rains come. It's been the longest, dryest spell I ever lived through. But fer thet my hosses This hyar's a west wind, an' it's blowin' harder every day. It'll fetch the rains." Next day about noon, when both wind and heat were high, Lucy was awakened from a doze.
"Come on, men," he gave brusque and half-peremptory invitation, "this hyar's whar we b'longs at."
He seemed a happy, mercurial, lucid nature, and he began presently to dwell with interest on the availability of the old music-stand in the centre of the square as a manger. "Hyar," he said, striking the rotten old structure with a heavy hand, which sent a quiver and a thrill through all the timbers "hyar's whar the guerillas always hitched thar beastises.
"Jim, now hyar's a queer deal this feller has rung in on us. I thought thet kid was pretty young. Don't you remember Beasley told us Nell Rayner was a handsome woman?" "Wal, pard Anson, if this heah gurl ain't handsome my eyes have gone pore," drawled Wilson. "A-huh! So your Texas chilvaree over the ladies is some operatin'," retorted Anson, with fine sarcasm.
Hyar's a fine range, but I've less stock this year than last. There's been some rustlin' of cattle, an a big loss from wolves an' lions an' poison-weed.... What d'you say, son?" "I'll run White Slides," replied Jack, with a wave of his hand. "I hadn't hoped for such a chance. But it's due me. Who's in the outfit I know?" "Reckon no one, except Wils Moore." "Is that cowboy here yet?
There was also a drop of molasses on one corner of it, which John William said would do to seal it up with; but Gregory wiped it carefully off on the leg of his trousers. "Now, den," said Aunt Matilda; "sot yerse'f right down dar on de floor. Git off dat ar smooth board, you Dick, an' let Greg'ry put his paper dar. I hain't got no pen, but hyar's a pencil Miss Kate lef' one day.
Milt Dale answered that question to Beasley's discredit; and many strange matters pertaining to sheep and herders, always a mystery to the little village of Pine, now became as clear as daylight. Other men entered the cabin. "It ain't a-goin' to rain much," said one. Then came a crash of wood thrown to the ground. "Jim, hyar's a chunk of pine log, dry as punk," said another.
Herky-Jerky yelled, as he jumped between Buell and me. Buell's breath was a hiss, and the words he bit between his clinched teeth were unintelligible. In that moment he would have killed me. Herky-Jerky met his onslaught, and flung him back. Then, with his hand on the butt of his revolver, he spoke: "Buell, hyar's where you an' me split. You've bungled your big deal.
"Hyar's the Prophet!" a voice shouted. "Now git ready fo' yo' eternal damnation. See 'im gather hisse'f!" Rasba gathering himself! Jock could not help but take a peep. It was Rasba, gaunt, tall, his head up close to the shanty-boat roof and his shoulders nearly a head higher than the collars of most of those men who stood by with insolence and doubtful good humour.
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