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The Jimmyjohn Boss and Other Stories by Owen Wister
page 8 of 243 (03%)
Indians, there was offle bad white men, und if you was not offle yourself
you vanished quickly. Therefore in those days was Max Vogel hell und
repeat."

The magnate smiled a broad fond smile over the past which he had kicked,
driven, shot, bled, and battled through to present power; and the boy
winked up at him again now.

"I don't propose to vanish, myself," said he.

"Ah-ha! you was no longer mad mit der old Max! Of coorse I care what
happens to you. I was alone in the world myself in those lofely wicked
days."

Reserve again made flinty the boy's face.

"Neider did I talk about my feelings," continued Max Vogel, "but I nefer
show them too quick. If I was injured I wait, and I strike to kill. We
all paddles our own dugout, eh? We ask no favors from nobody; we must win
our spurs! Not so? Now I talk business with you where you interroopt me.
If cow-boys was not so offle scarce in the country, I would long ago haf
bounce the lot of those drunken fellows. But they cannot be spared; we
must get along so. I cannot send Brock, he is needed at Harper's. The
dumb fellow at Alvord Lake is too dumb; he is not quickly courageous.
They would play high jinks mit him. Therefore I send you. Brock he say to
me you haf joodgement. I watch, and I say to myself also, this boy haf
goot joodgement. And when you look at your pistol so quick, I tell you
quick I don't send you to kill men when they are so scarce already! My
boy, it is ever the moral, the say-noding strength what gets there--mit
always the liddle pistol behind, in case--joost in case. Haf you
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