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The Luck of the Mounted - A Tale of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police by Ralph S. Kendall
page 35 of 225 (15%)
was sint tu me for tu dhrive. Mighty chipper gossoon, tu. 'Teamster?'
sez I--'Some!' sez he, as if he was a reg'lar gun at th' business--'but
I'm gen'rally reckoned handier wid a foursome 'n a single team.'"

"'Oh!' sez I, 'fwhere?' An' he tould me--Regina. Sez I thin ''tis
Skinner Adams's undershtudy ye must have bin?--for he was Reg'mentil
Teamster Sarjint there, an' sure fwas a great man wid a four-in-hand
team.'"

"'Fwat, ould Skinner Adams?' sez me bould lad, kind av contempshus-like,
'Humph! at shtringin' out four I have Skinner Adams thrimmed tu a peak.'
We was dhrivin' from th' station tu th' detachmint--same like tu we're
doin' now. Whin we gits in I unhitches an' puts up th' team. 'Give us a
hand tu shling th' harniss off!' sez I tu him--an' me shmart Aleck makes
a shtab at ut wid th' nigh horse. He was not quite so chipper--thin, an'
I noticed his hands thremblin', an' he was all th' time watchin' me close
how I did wid th' off harse. I dhraws off wid th' britchin' on me
arrum--'Come!' sez I--an' he shtarts in--unbucklin' th' top hame-shtrap.

"'As ye were!' sez I 'that's enough! I'm thinkin' th' on'y 'four' you
iver shtrung out me young flapdhoodle was a gang av prisoners, an'
blarney me sowl! ye shall go back tu th' Post right now, an' du
prisoner's escort agin for awhile.'"

They had now reached the top of the grade where the trail swung due east,
and faced a dazzling sun and cutting wind which whipped the blood to
their cheeks and made their eyes water.

"Behould our counthry eshtate!" said Sergeant Slavin grandiloquently,
with an airy wave of his arm, "beyant that big pile av shtones on th'
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