what I want 'em doin' right now. And for Time's sake, what's that
revolver lyin' on the floor for? Is it loaded? Say, are you really
out of your senses, or ain't you? What's got into you lately? Will
you tell me that? Skyhootin' around in here, leavin' the front of
the store unpertected for an hour or two, like your time was your
own. And don't tell me you only been foolin' in here for three
minutes, either, because when I come back from lunch just now there
was Mis' Leffingwell up at the notions counter wanting some hooks
and eyes, and she tells me she's waited there a good thutty minutes
if she's waited one. Nice goin's on, I must say, for a boy drawin'
down the money you be! Now you git busy! Take that one with the
gingham frock out and stand her in front where she belongs, and then
put one them new raincoats on the other and stand him out where he
belongs, and then look after a few customers. I declare, sometimes I
git clean out of patience with you! Now, for gosh's sake, stir your
stumps!"

"Oh, all right--yes, sir," replied Merton Gill, though but half
respectfully. The "Oh, all right" had been tainted with a trace of
sullenness. He was tired of this continual nagging and fussing over
small matters; some day he would tell the old grouch so.

And now, gone the vivid tale of the great out-of-doors, the wide
plains of the West, the clash of primitive-hearted men for a good
woman's love. Gone, perhaps, the greatest heart picture of a
generation, the picture at which you laugh with a lump in your
throat and smile with a tear in your eye, the story of plausible
punches, a big, vital theme masterfully handled--thrills, action,
beauty, excitement--carried to a sensational finish by the genius of
that sterling star of the shadowed world, Clifford Armytage--once