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Thats the word all through this country. A man that will do what they claim Balaam does to a hawss when hes mad, aint fit to be called human. The Virginian told me some particulars. Oh! I almost screamed at the horror of it, and again, Oh! Hed have probly done that to Buck as soon as he stopped runnin away. If I caught a man doin that-- We were interrupted by a sedate-looking traveller riding upon an equally sober horse. Mawnin, Taylor, said the Virginian, pulling up for gossip. Aint you strayed off your range pretty far? Youre a nice one! replied Mr. Taylor, stopping his horse and smiling amiably. Tell me something I dont know, retorted the Virginian. Hold up a man at cards and rob him, pursued Mr. Taylor. Oh, the news has got ahead of you! Trampas has been hyeh explainin, has he? said the Virginian with a grin. Was that your victims name? said Mr. Taylor, facetiously. No, it wasnt him that brought the news. Say, what did you do, anyway? So that thing has got around, murmured the Virginian. Well, it wasnt worth such wide repawtin. And he gave the simple facts to Taylor, while I sat wondering at the contagious powers of Rumor. Here, through this voiceless land, this desert, this vacuum, it had spread like a change of weather. Any news up your way? the Virginian concluded. Importance came into Mr. Taylors countenance. Bear Creek is going to build a schoolhouse, said he. Goodness gracious! drawled the Virginian. Whats that for? Now Mr. Taylor had been married for some years. To educate the offspring of Bear Creek, he answered with pride. Offspring of Bear Creek, the Virginian meditatively repeated. I dont remember noticin much offspring. There was some white tail deer, and a right smart o jack rabbits. The Swintons have moved up from Drybone, said Mr. Taylor, always seriously. They found it no place for young children. And theres Uncle Carmody with six, and Ben Dow. And Westfall has become a family man, and-- Jim Westfall! exclaimed the Virginian. Him a famly man! Well, if this hyeh Territory is goin to get full ofamly men and empty o game, I believe Ill-- Get married yourself, suggested Mr. Taylor. Me! I aint near reached the marriageable age. No, seh! But Uncle Hughey has got there at last, yu know. Uncle Hughey! shouted Mr. Taylor. He had not heard this. Rumor is very capricious. Therefore the Virginian told him, and the family man rocked in his saddle. Build your schoolhouse, said the Virginian. Uncle Hughey has qualified himself to subscribe to all such propositions. Got your eye on a schoolmarm? |
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