THE FLYING-MARE
THE Sunday Blake’s visit to Ford’s Station the Star C in excitement. Notwithstanding the that on every night after the day’s work had been done it was the for the to in a swim, and that Saturday night had been very pleasant, the Limping Water was being disturbed, and and the sun as it looked over the of the bank. Cakes of soap on the on the west bank and from of the which the creek.
Silent, who was noted among his for the length of time he under water, them to a test. The were simple, as they in all under at the same time, the being he who was the last man up. Silent had 285refused to have his timed, which his friends for modesty, and no sooner had all “ducked under” than his up–but this time he was not alone. Humble, limit was not over a minute, angry at his to make a good and to take a handicap. The two at each other for a space and then into laughter, for the time being what they should do. Other up, and the was out. Only that Silent was the best in the saved him from a ducking, and as it was he had to his and run.
After being that he was for his he his friends and his towel.
More fun was now the rule, for care. The west bank to the water’s edge, and it was necessary to on one on a small in the water while the other was to remove the sand. Still on one the other must be dried, the put on, then the leg and the boot, and to the man who his and and leg as he 286sought to save it! Humble while his was only half-way through the leg, and The Orphan worse. Then a of was on toward the house, where was annihilated.
“Hey, Tom, what time do we leave?” asked Bud for the time.
“Nine o’clock, you chump,” the foreman.
“Three whole hours yet,” Jim as he again his to his head.
“I’ll my shore,” Humble. “We got up too early, that’s what we did.”
“Why, here’s Humble!” Silent in surprise. “Do you like pie, and and coffee?”
“You go to the devil,” Humble. “You wouldn’t ’a’ been asked at all, only she couldn’t very well cut you out of it when she asked me along. I’m the one she wants to feed; you just to on behind, that’s all.”
“Going to take Lightning with you, Humble?” asked Docile, at the others.
“Why, I am,” Humble in surprise. 287“Do you I’d him and that d––-d Chink all alone together, you sheep?”
“I was you wouldn’t,” Docile, but here he hopefully. “Suppose you take Lee Lung and the dog here?” he queried.
“Suppose you with your feet!” Humble. “I know you ain’t got much brains, but you might what little you have got once in a while. It won’t you none after you used to it.”
“How are you going to him, Humble–like a papoose?” Joe with a great of interest.
Humble at him: “Huh!” he muttered, being too much to say more.
“I asked you how you are going to your wolfhound,” Joe said without the of an eyelash. “I you was going to him on your like a papoose.”
“Carry him! Papoose!” Humble in irony. “What do you his are for? He ain’t no statue, he ain’t no ornament, he’s a dog.”
“Well, I he ain’t no ornament, but I 288wasn’t about the of it,” Joe. “I only wanted to know how he’d to town. There ain’t no in about that, is there? I know he can’t the we’ll up for thirty miles, so I just naturally asked, sabe?”
“Oh, you did, did you!” Humble, not at all humbly. “He can’t us, can’t he?” he belligerently.
“He can’t, my heart,” Silent in great earnestness. “If he to Ford’s Station after us and there of two days I’ll him a collar. That goes.”
“Huh!” Humble in disgust, “he won’t wear your old after he it. He’s got too much to wear anything you’ll give him.”
“He couldn’t, you mean,” Jim. “He’s so that it would his to it. Why, he has to and if more’n two on the same spot at once.”
“He can’t his more’n three times in an hour,” added Bud, “and when he he has to for the of the day.”
Humble to The Orphan in an way: “Did you see so many d––d all at once?” he beseeched.
289The Orphan his to his and for a minute replying: “I was just figuring,” he in for his abstraction. Then his brightened: “You can tie him up in a blanket–that’s the best way. Yes, sir, tie him up in a and him at the pommel. We’ll take him.”
“Purple h–l!” Humble. “You’re another! The whole are a of ––!”
“Sing it, Humble,” Tad, laughing. “Sing it!”
“Whistle some of it, and send the by mail,” Jack Lawson.
“Seen th’ dlog?” came a bland, voice from the doorway, where Lee Lung a of in one hand, while his other hand was his back. Over his left a of club, which he concealed. “Seen th’ dlog?” he repeated, smiling.
“Miss Mirandy and hell!” Humble, at of the club. There was a swish! and Humble from the door, at which he stared. From the of the house came more words: “Nice dlog-gie. 290Pletty Lightling. Here come. Gette glub,” and Humble around the of the house, at every jump.
When the had died Blake grimly: “Some day Lee will that dog, and when he he’ll him good and hard. Then we’ll have to another cook. I’ve told him fifty times if I’ve told him once not to let it go past a joke, but it’s no use.”
“He won’t the cur, he’s only Humble,” said Bud. “Nobody would a dog that his own business.”
“If a dog of mine for no cause, he wouldn’t do it again unless he got me first,” The Orphan.
Jim pointed to the of the house where a into sight: “There’s Lee now!” he hurriedly. “He’s for him!”
There was a of and and the yards, by three bullets. Humble around the his hand, his too for repetition.
Smoke from The Orphan’s and 291eyes opened wide in at the of his gunplay, for no one had it. All there was was smoke.
“Good God!” Blake, at the marksman, who had and was to Humble. “It’s a good thing Shields was square!” he muttered.
“Did you see that?” asked Bud of Jim in awe. “And I I was some with a six-shooter!”
“No, but I it–was they one or six?” Jim.
“I didn’t know it was you, Humble,” The Orphan. “I it was the Chink for the dog.”
“–– ––! Good for you!” Humble in friendliness. “You’re all right, Orphant, but will you be sure next time? That like blazes,” he said as he out his hand. “I can always tell a white man by the way he a dog. If all men were as good as dogs this world would be a place to live in, and don’t you it.”
“Still going to take Lightning with you, Humble?” asked Bud.
292“No, I ain’t going to take Lightning with me!” Humble. “I’m going to him right here on the ranch,” here his voice to a roar, “and if any sing-song, rope-haired, hash-wrastler while I’m gone, I’ll send him to his hell!”
“Come on, boys,” said Blake, his watch shut. “Time to going.”
“Glory be!” Silent, a steps toward the corral, his close behind, with the of The Orphan, who had gone into the house for a minute.
As they their way toward the town Blake noticed that a gold pin at the of the new recruit’s neck-kerchief, and he when he the he had to the sheriff. He that the and the of the were by The Orphan to the girl who had him the pin.
Bud in his and pointed to a which away across the plain like an shadow.
“Now, if Humble’s was only here,” he said, “we would rope that and make the 293cur it. It would be a fight, all right,” he laughed.
“You go to the devil,” Humble, and he started ahead at full speed. “Come on!” he cried. “Come on, you snails!” and a was on.
·····
The citizens of Ford’s Station saw a low-hanging cloud of which rolled up from the west and soon a hard-riding of cowboys, in attire, the main of the town. They to a and in a single line, the arms of each man over the of his nearest companions, and all sang at the top of their lungs. On the right end Blake, and on the left was The Orphan. Bill Howland ran out into the and his new friend and his and for the man who had helped him out of two holes. The Orphan from the line and hands with the driver, his by a grin.
“You old son-of-a-gun!” Bill, at the from so noted a person as the outlaw. “How are you, hey?”
294The line warm as it around to shake his hand, and the driver’s took on of girth.
“Hullo, Bill!” Bud with a laugh. “Seen your old friend Tex lately?”
“Yes, I did,” Bill. “I saw him out on Thirty-Mile Stretch, but he didn’t do nothing but swear. He didn’t want no more run-ins with me, all right, and, besides, my was across my knees. He said as how he was going to come some day and start moving about this old town, and I told him to with the Star C when he did.”
He looked across the and his hand at a group of his friends who were looking on. “Come on over, fellows,” he cried, and when they had done so he and The Orphan to them.
“This here is Charley Winter; this slab-sided is Tommy Larkin, and here is his Al; Chet Dare, Duke Irwin, Frank Hicks, Hoke Jones, Gus Shaw and Roy Purvis. All good fellows, every one of them, and all friends of the sheriff. Here comes Jed Carr, the only man in the whole town who ain’t of me 295since I them in the defile. Hullo, Jed! Shake hands with the man who played h–l with the Cross Bar-8 and the Apaches.”
“Glad to meet you, Orphan,” Jed as he hands. “Punching for the Star C, eh? Good crowd, most of them, as they run, though Humble ain’t very much.”
“He ain’t, ain’t he?” that puncher. “You’re some about that day when I up all your at poker, ain’t you? Ain’t had time to over it, have you? Want to borrow some?”
“You want to look out for Humble, Jed,” Bud. “He’s taken a lesson at from our cook since he played you. Didn’t you, Easy?” he asked Humble.
The of which Bud’s Humble to treat: “Come on over and have something with the only man in the that’s got any money,” he said.
When they had up against the to thick and fast and The Orphan a over him as he slowly at his cigar. Suddenly the door open and Bill’s from his hand.
296“Bucknell, by God! And as as a fool!” he exclaimed.
The The Orphan had up above the against the door and his gun from point to point as he to into the of the room, his as he sought, with a of drink, for the man who had a of him.
A bottle against the at his side, and as he forward, at the glass, a to meet him and with his right wrist, and got his under Bucknell’s armpit, took two steps and up with a jerk. The left the and through the air, against the wall, where he to the and quiet. The Orphan, having gunplay, and always to shoot a man, had a clever, quick flying-mare.
As the into the room Blake ran and Bucknell to his feet, supporting him until he alone. The was by the and 297about him. The Orphan was at the and Bill had just the the victim’s gun.
“What’s the matter?” asked Bucknell, his forehead, which was cut and bruised.
“Nothing’s the matter, yet,” answered Shields shortly. “But there would have been if you hadn’t been too to know what you was doing. I saw you and to here first, but it’s all right now. Take your gun and out. Here,” he exclaimed, “you promise me to and you can go to Sneed, for he needs you. Otherwise, it’s out of the country after Tex for you. Is it a go?”
“What was that, and who done it?” asked Bucknell, to the bar. “What was it?” he repeated.
“That was me trying to you through the wall,” said the sheriff, to give Bucknell no for against The Orphan, and for the peace of the community; and also he to help The Orphan to from using his gun in the future. “And I’d ’a’ done it, too, only my hand was sweaty. Will you do what I said?” he asked.
298Bucknell up and past the to where The Orphan stood: “You done that, but it’s all right, ain’t it?” he asked. “You ain’t sore, are you?” His had a look, but the of the room it, and The Orphan did not notice the look.
“It’s all right, Bucknell, and I ain’t sore,” he replied. “I won’t be if you do what the wants you to.”
“All right, all right,” Bucknell. “Have a drink on me, boys. It’s all right now, ain’t it? Have a drink on me.”
“No more to-day,” said the at a look from Shields. “All the good is used up and the ain’t fit for dogs, let alone my friends. Wait ’til next time, when I’ll have some new.”
“That’s too d––d bad,” Bucknell, at the crowd. “Have a smoke, then. Come on, have a with me.”
“We will, Bucknell,” Shields quickly.
As the started for the door the a hand on his shoulder: “You yourself, Bucknell,” he said. “So long.”
