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Hendryx, James B., 1880-1963

"The Texan A Story of the Cattle Country"

Gosh, I bet the boys are havin' fun watchin'
that diggin'. If I was there I'd put in my nights makin' fresh-dug
spots, an' my days watchin' 'em prospect 'em." Then his thoughts
turned to the girl, and for miles he rode unheeding. The sun had swung
well to the westward before the cowboy took notice of his surroundings.
Antelope Butte lay ten or twelve miles away and he headed for it with a
laugh. "You must have thought I sure enough was headin' for Cow Island
Crossing didn't you, you old dogie chaser?" He touched his horse
lightly with his spurs and the animal struck into a long swinging trot.
"This here's a mixed-up play all around," he muttered. "Win's worryin'
about killin' Purdy--says it's got under his hide 'til he thinks about
it nights. It ain't so much bein' on the run that bothers him as it is
the fact that he's killed a man." He smiled to himself: "A little
worryin' won't hurt him none. Any one that would worry over shootin' a
pup like Purdy ought to worry--whether he done it or not. Then,
there's me. I start out with designs as evil an' triflin' as
Purdy's--only I ain't a brute--an' I winds up by lovin' her.
Yes--that's the word. There ain't no mortal use beatin' around the
bush to fool myself. Spite of silk stockin's she's good clean through.
I reckon, maybe, they're wore more promiscuous in the East.


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