Genre - Western. You are on the page - 20
s life. He might go on now and become a bad man, or he might cheapen and become an imitation desperado. In either event, his third man left him still more confident. His courage and his skill in weapons gave him assuredness and ease at the time of an encounter. He was now becoming a specialist. Time did the rest, until at length they buried him.The bad man of genuine sort rarely looked the part assigned to him in the popular imagination. The long-haired blusterer, adorned with a dialect that
his pads out crossin' the lava beds, though what in time any hombre who ain't plumb loco is trapesin' round there for, beats me. There is some grazin' on top of the Cumbre mesa, enough for a small herd, but the other side is jest plain hell with the lights out, one big slice of desert thirty mile' wide.""Minin' camp over that way, ain't there?" "Was. There's a lava bed strip of six-seven miles at the end of the pass, then comes a bu'sted mesa, all box caΓ±on an' rim-rock,
kes and grub.""Yours truly," responded the other. "When you land in the calaboose for this racket I'll keep you in tobacco. What name shall I ask for?" "If I land there you can ask for a damfool--and I'll answer the first time," laughed the holdup over his shoulder. "Next gent! Here's the little bag. Lady, keep your weddin' ring. You fat sport, stand up till I see what you're sittin' on. Why, was you tryin' to hatch out that bunch of money? I'll surely do
ld son, have you been a good boy to-day?" asked Mr. Moore as Roger slid into his place at the table."No, sir. I've been pretty bad. Say, Papa, how much would it cost to build a railroad, under the ground, from our house to Prebles'?" "A good deal of money. What way were you bad, Rog?" "Oh, about every way, temper and all. Papa, I guess I'll build that railroad. I got a big piece of pipe and a gauge that might work. Guess I might begin to make a engine. Aren't I a
finally at that moment, they would have done so with no more concern for preliminary detail than a bird or squirrel. The wagon rolled steadily on. The boy could see that one of the teamsters had climbed up on the tail-board of the preceding vehicle. The other seemed to be walking in a dusty sleep."Kla'uns," said the girl. The boy, without turning his head, responded, "Susy." "Wot are you going to be?" said the girl. "Goin' to be?" repeated Clarence.
his look was one of contentment; and I could but note the suggestion of merriment--the merriment of a happy memory--in his eye. How happy it is for an offspring to be able to recall the character of his forefathers with such liveliness of mind!"The motive which impelled me towards Texas," he resumed, "was one which was natural for me to feel, thus ancestrally connected. I had heired my father's business,--the deacon, who had died full of honors, ripe in years, and in perfect