A First Family of Tasajara by Bret Harte
page 33 of 203 (16%)
page 33 of 203 (16%)
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off--tho' ez a general rule drunken men don't, and he is a good rider--I
followed down the road, lookin' for him. I kept on follerin' it down to your run, half a mile below." "But," began Harkutt, with a quick nervous laugh, "you don't reckon that because of that he"-- "Hold on!" said Peters, grimly producing a revolver from his side-pocket with the stock and barrel clogged and streaked with mud. "I found THAT too,--and look! one barrel discharged! And," he added hurriedly, as approaching a climax, "look ye,--what I nat'rally took for wet from the rain--inside that hat--was--blood!" "Nonsense!" said Harkutt, putting the hat aside with a new fastidiousness. "You don't think"-- "I think," said Peters, lowering his voice, "I think, by God! HE'S BIN AND DONE IT!" "No!" "Sure! Oh, it's all very well for Billings and the rest of that conceited crowd to sneer and sling their ideas of 'Lige gen'rally as they did jess now here,--but I'd like 'em to see THAT." It was difficult to tell if Mr. Peters' triumphant delight in confuting his late companions' theories had not even usurped in his mind the importance of the news he brought, as it had of any human sympathy with it. "Look here," returned Harkutt earnestly, yet with a singularly cleared brow and a more natural manner. "You ought to take them things over to |
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