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Bar-20 Days by Clarence Edward Mulford
page 68 of 252 (26%)
and, leaping off, fixed the saddle first. As he knelt to drink he caught
a movement and jumped up to catch his mount. Time after time he almost
touched it, but it evaded him and kept up the game, cropping a mouthful
of grass during each respite.

"All right!" he muttered as he let it eat. "I'll get my drink while you
eat an' then I'll get you!"

He knelt by the stream again and drank long and deep. As he paused for
breath something made him leap up and to one side, reaching for his
Colt at the same instant. His fingers found only leather and he swore
fiercely as he remembered--he had sold the Colt for food and kept the
rifle for defence. As he faced the rear a horseman rounded the turn and
the fugitive, wheeling, dashed for the stolen horse forty yards away,
where his rifle lay in its saddle sheath. But an angry command and the
sharp hum of a bullet fired in front of him checked his flight and he
stopped short and swore.

"I reckon the jig's up," remarked Mr. Cassidy, balancing the up-raised
Colt with nicety and indifference.

"Yea; I reckon so," sullenly replied the other, tears running into his
eyes.

"Well, I'm damned!" snorted Hopalong with cutting contempt. "Crying like
a li'l baby! Got nerve enough to steal my cayuse, an' then go an'
beller like a lost calf when I catch you. Yo're a fine specimen of a
hoss-thief, I don't think!"

"Yo're a liar!" retorted the other, clenching his fists and growing red.
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