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The Lure of the Dim Trails by B. M. Bower
page 15 of 114 (13%)
his father. Bud, this is Mona Stevens; she ranges down close to
the Lazy Eight, so the sooner yuh git acquainted, the quicker."
He did not explain what would be the quicker, and Thurston's
embarrassment was only aggravated by the introduction.

Miss Stevens gave him a chilly smile, the kind that is worse
than none at all and turned her back, thinly pretending that she
heard her brother calling her, which she did not. Her brother
was loudly explaining what would have happened if he had been on
that train and had got a whack at the robbers, and his sister
was far from his mind.

Graves slapped the shoulder of the fellow they had called Park.
"You young devil, next time I leave the place for a week--yes,
or overnight--I'll lock yuh up in the blacksmith shop. Have yuh
got to be Mona's special escort, these days?"

"Wish I was," Park retorted, unmoved.

"Different here--yuh ain't much account, as it is. Bud, this
here's my wagon-boss, Park Holloway; one of 'em, that is. I'm
going to turn yuh over to him and let him wise yuh up. Say, you
young bucks ought to get along together pretty smooth. Your
dads run buffalo together before either of yuh was born. Well,
let's be moving--we ain't home yet. Got a war-bag, Bud?"

Late that night Thurston lay upon a home-made bed and listened
to the frogs croaking monotonously in the hollow behind the
house, and to the lone coyote which harped upon the subject of
his wrongs away on a distant hillside, and to the subdued
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