hat returned to Farewell. He went
was Piney Jackson's
y Dawson, wiping his hot fac
You've got a gall, you have. Camly prancing out of a saloon an' gloomi
ried the worried Racey
be something disgracef
and yore friend sasha
ou had two snifters an
ghta be more careful ho
e strove to make contemptuous. "You think yo're awful funny-just too awful funny
h you baldheaded, she will. The old lady was wild when she come out an' found her good hoss missing. And she shore said what she
horse. He could only repeat his request that Piney make not of himself a bigger fool t
lacksmith, "I'd shore talk to you, but-Say, lookit here, Pin
ney. "Betcha five even he ar
ll go you," Racey
stuck ou
jiggers hang together too hard for
asey, the deputy sheriff. "How
e," Racey replied, frankly
tone. "This here would be mighty serious business for you if the Sheriff was in town. Jake's so particular about being
ed Piney in a tone of deepest compas
s cry if you fellers don't stop yore funnin
y, "an' I ain't funning, not for a minute. You go
ack to!" bawled Racey, and immediately batted h
ct it might after last night. You go
back and retreated rapidly in the
arting deputy. Then he switched his angry blue
acey Dawson, distinct
e and loped up the street, followed b
urnfully, as he dismounted and tied at the hitching rail i
o the bartender to divulge the name of the horse's owner. He had, he believed, furnished the local populace sufficient amu
ainly the horse's owner had bought the undershirt and the stockings at the Blue Pigeon. Furthermore, Mi
he Blue Pigeon Store. Miss Blythe, at his entran
back a step. "I'm kind of in trouble, an' I want you to help me out. I'm-my name's Racey Dawson, an' I used
tinued to look doub
mean I thought it was my hoss and it wasn't. An' I thought maybe you'd tell me who the hoss belongs to so's I
terday afternoon," she admitted. "But I thought Mr. Flynn said Tom Dowling was the man
I slept mostly on my face last night, but it's li'l ol' me all right behind the
id Miss Blythe, drawin
es over at Medicine Sp
ey declared, confident
. "The girl married Ch
l take it right back
ightyful time explaini
se. It's the daughter's. S
uck's wife,
lly Dale, the o
hat Piney Jackson had said anent an "old lady." "They must 'a' kept her
erhaps," was the st
once for a school-teacher. I can feel her lickings yet. She was the contrariest female I ever met. Shucks,
nt to Sing Luey's Canton Restaurant. Because while Bill Lainey offered no objections to feeding the horse, Mrs. Lainey utterly refused t
ed steak and potatoes sloshed down by several cups of coffee. "If
d frightened yellow dog dashed into the restaurant and fled underneath Racey's table, w
was no more than a pup when a burly youth charged into the restaurant and dema
an, as the saying is, skin his own deer. He that takes exception to this custom and horns in on what cannot rightfully b
leg. "This h
sober) glared at Racey Dawson. "Shore it's him!" he d
urly youth adva
had by his brusque manner and rude remarks incl
t him so hard on the nose that the other flipped backward
, bleeding copiously from the nose, sat
ne, and lemme tell you, stranger, while we're together, that I want to buy that pup of yor
op," grumbled t
ou," Racey observe
in' you again," su
and quiet like a good boy, and keep the li'l hands spread out all so pretty with
on Racey's ears. But he did not remove his slight
outh and looked down at him. Now that the woman was within his range of vision Racey perceived
er knuckles showed whitely against the pink. Two
How many tunes I gotta ask you, huh? Where is h
the burly youth. "He never
the place, and the girl. She promptly swung a brisk right toe,
lady, I'm a-gonna be treated like one, and I'll break the neck of the man wh
beast essayed to rise. But here again Racey and his r
ou got what was coming to yuh. Let it go a
dog, I te
t when he was sick, and I took him in and tended him and
said Racey.
from the Canton came the dog on the jump and bounced into the gi
ted to the man on the ground. "It
youth star
told him, impatiently. "G'on. G
what was intended to be a menacing
of a fool already to-
asking for
azer on me," denied
s sixshooter. "Now's yore b
he burly youth sat rocking his body to and fro and groaning through gritted teeth
he man he had shot and to the man's sixshooter lying on the edge of the sidewalk. It, too, like his own gun, was thinly smoking at the muzzle. The bur
carded sixshooter into the middle of the street. He
e knew that they were interested despite their careful lack of all expression. It is never well to openly express a
s Casey and shoved his sixsh
en break," an
it. There'll be no trouble-fro
een carried away. Remained a stain of dark red on the sidewalk where he had been sitting. Piggy Wadsworth, the plump owner of the dance-hall, legs widespread and arms akimbo, was
re?" inquir
there. I seen the whole fra
Racey Dawson w