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Hendryx, James B., 1880-1963

"The Texan A Story of the Cattle Country"

Maybe
that's what riled her. If I thought it was I'd yank 'em off an' let
them cuts bleed no matter how bad they stung, just to show her my
heart's in the right place. But that might not suit, neither, so there
you are."
Alice sat well back from the fire as the three men poured their coffee
and helped themselves to the food.
"Ain't you goin' to join us in this here repast?" asked Tex, with a
smile.
"I have eaten, thank you."
"You're welcome--like eight dollars change for a five-spot."
In vain Endicott signalled the cowboy to keep silent. "Shove over,
Win, you're proddin' me in the ribs with your elbow! Ain't Choteau
County big enough to eat in without crowdin'? 'Tain't as big as Tom
Green County, at that, no more'n Montana is as big as Texas--nor as
good, either; not but what the rest of the United States has got
somethin' to be said in its favour, though. But comparisons are
ordorous, as the Dutchman said about the cheese. Come on, Win, me an'
you'll just wash up these dishes so Bat can pack 'em while we saddle
up."
A half-hour later, just as the moon topped the crest of a high ridge,
the four mounted and made their way down into the valley.
"We got to go kind of easy for a few miles 'cause I shouldn't wonder if
old man Johnson had got a gang out interrin' defunck bovines.


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