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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"

There ain't nobody
wants to buck up against his game. Of course the boys might get mad
after a while, but I reckon we'd be starved plumb ter death long afore
that happened. An' that ain't the worst ov it, Jim--the sheriff is
Lacy's man. I wouldn't never dare turn you over ter him--not by a
jugful."
"Then we are blocked at every turn."
"We sure are, unless we can dig out ourselves," gravely. "My notion is
to get a fair start, drift out into Shoshone, whar we'll leave no
trail, an' then hit for over the line. Sam Watts is sheriff of
Coconino, an' he'd give us a square deal."
"On foot?"
"Hell, no! I ain't no such walker as all that. Come over yere; keep
yer head down; now look out between these two rocks. Do yer see them
cow-ponies hitched ter the rack alongside o' the Red Dog? Well,
they've been thar fer a matter o' three hours, I reckon, an' their
riders ain't liable ter leave as long as thar's any excitement in town.
They're XL men, and mostly drunk by this time. It's my aim ter get a
leg over one o' them animals. How does that notion strike you?"
Westcott shook his head doubtfully, his eyes still on those distant
specks.


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