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Updated: June 24, 2025
He therefore sent her an elaborate statement of the situation, reiterated his readiness to return if she desired it, and begged her to decide for him whether he should remain longer or not. Why could she not come down and spend a few weeks at Waco? he asked. She would find pleasant people there, and he could then see her at least once in a while. He would go back to St. Louis to bring her down.
No, no; there was no hope of his obtaining satisfaction. He was cruelly robbed, and he knew that he must endure it; but what a blighted prospect was before him! As soon as day broke he would go to the Waco camp he would boldly upbraid them for their treachery. But what purpose would that serve? Besides, would he find them still there?
Elizabeth Herndon Potter of Tyler; Mrs. W. E. Spell of Waco. On Sunday afternoon, March 28, Dr. Shaw, the guest of Miss Brackenridge, delivered a great speech in Beethoven Hall under the auspices of the San Antonio Equal Franchise Society, accompanied on the stage by its president, Mrs. Dan Leary; J. H. Kirkpatrick, president of the Men's Suffrage League, the Rev.
The ponies reared and took to the ditch as a machine flicked past and drummed away in the distance. To Waco, rigid and staring, the air seemed filled with a kind of hovering terror, a whining threat of danger that came in bursts of driving sand and dwindled away to harsh whisperings. He stood it as long as he could. Pat had not spoken. Waco touched his arm.
"Then solemnly be it proclaimed," said the orator, "that he to whom belongs this trophy," he pointed to the scalp of the Pane, "shall be chief of the Waco nation!" "Solemnly we avow it!" cried all the warriors in the ring, each placing his hand over his heart as he spoke. "Enough!" said the orator. "Who is chief of the Waco warriors? Let him declare himself on the spot!" A dead silence ensued.
And I'm right sorry he's ridin' into this camp. You was talkin' of feelin's. Well, he ain't got any." Brewster loped up and dismounted. "What's your tally, kid?" Lorry shook his head. "Only this," he said jokingly. Brewster glanced at Waco. "Maverick, all right. Where'd you rope him?" "I run onto him holdin' up some tourists down by the Notch. I'm driftin' him over to Stacey."
He can see thar's what you-all might call a substratum of seriousness to the observations of Waco an' Shoestring, an' his efforts to solve the mystery that disposes of every law case he has, an' leaves him to begin life anew, comes to a halt! "'But it lets pore Easy Aaron out.
It has never been borne but by a true warrior of the Waco tribe, for no impotent descendant of even a favourite chief has ever ruled over the braves of our nation. We do not fear to offer this honour to you. We would rejoice if you would accept it. Stranger! we will be proud of a white chief when that chief is a warrior such as you! We know you better than you think.
Lorry's companion read the scrawl and handed it back to Lorry. Waco humped his shoulders and shuffled away. "Why didn't you nail him?" queried the other. "I don't know. Mebby because he was trustin' me." Shortly afterward Lorry and his companion were relieved from duty.
For those who formerly read Brann in The Iconoclast he was a Texas journalist in the free silver days; but for those who shall read his work in these days after the world war, New York might as well be Babylon, Mark Hanna, Haman, and the files of The Iconoclast, clay tablets dug from the ruins of some long-buried Waco of the Euphrates Valley.
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