Cowmen and Rustlers - A Story of the Wyoming Cattle Ranges by Edward S. (Edward Sylvester) Ellis
page 51 of 238 (21%)
page 51 of 238 (21%)
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But he did not do so now. He must have seen the anxious mother and
daughter almost as soon as they discerned him. Jennie watched for the greeting which did not come. "Something is amiss," was her conclusion. The hoofs of the flying horse beat the hard ground with a regular rhythm, and he thundered forward like one who knew he was bringing decisive tidings which would make the hearts of the listeners stand still. The black eyes of the cowman were seen gleaming under his hat-rim as he looked steadily at the couple, against whom his horse would dash himself the next minute, like a thunderbolt, unless checked. No fear, however, of anything like that. He rounded to in front of the women, and halted with a suddenness that would have flung a less skilful rider over his head, but which hardly caused Budd Hankinson a jar. He read the questioning eyes, and before the words could shape themselves on the pallid lips he called out: "The mischief is to pay!" "What is it, Budd?" asked Jennie, she and her mother stepping close to his box-stirrup. "We have had a fight with the rustlers--one of the worst I ever seed--there was eight of 'em." |
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