The Jimmyjohn Boss and Other Stories by Owen Wister
page 48 of 243 (19%)
page 48 of 243 (19%)
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responsible."
"We're here to take your orders," returned the foreman. But as the agency buildings grew plain and the time for action was coming, Brock's anxious heart spoke out of its fulness. "If they start in to--to--they might--I wish you'd let me get in front," he begged, all at once. "I thought you thought better of me," said Drake. "Excuse me," said the man. Then presently: "I don't see how anybody could 'a' told he'd smuggle whiskey that way. If the old man [Brock meant Max Vogel] goes to blame you, I'll give him my opinion straight." "The old man's got no use for opinions," said Drake. "He goes on results. He trusted me with this job, and we're going to have results now." The drunkards were sitting round outside the ranch house. It was evening. They cast a sullen inspection on the new-comers, who returned them no inspection whatever. Drake had his men together and took them to the stable first, a shed with mangers. Here he had them unsaddle. "Because," he mentioned to Brock, "in case of trouble we'll be sure of their all staying. I'm taking no chances now." Soon the drunkards strolled over, saying good-day, hazarding a few comments on the weather and like topics, and meeting sufficient answers. "Goin' to stay?" "Don't know." |
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