The Virginian, Horseman of the Plains by Owen Wister
page 17 of 531 (03%)
page 17 of 531 (03%)
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end, a space across which Noah and Adam might come straight from
Genesis. Into that space went wandering a road, over a hill and down out of sight, and up again smaller in the distance, and down once more, and up once more, straining the eyes, and so away. Then I heard a fellow greet my Virginian. He came rollicking out of a door, and made a pass with his hand at the Virginian's hat. The Southerner dodged it, and I saw once more the tiger undulation of body, and knew my escort was he of the rope and the corral. "How are yu' Steve?" he said to the rollicking man. And in his tone I heard instantly old friendship speaking. With Steve he would take and give familiarity. Steve looked at me, and looked away--and that was all. But it was enough. In no company had I ever felt so much an outsider. Yet I liked the company, and wished that it would like me. "Just come to town?" inquired Steve of the Virginian. "Been here since noon. Been waiting for the train." "Going out to-night?" "I reckon I'll pull out to-morro'." "Beds are all took," said Steve. This was for my benefit. "Dear me," said I. |
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