"Quad's odds"; . he stranger didnt seem to know what to make of sucha greeting, but he continued: Beg pardon, but I desire to tarry here and refresh theinner man. Desire / yelled Jack Lawrrence from behind the stove. Refresh ! screamed the old man Davis from behinda table. THE INKER MAN! squeaked little hump-backedBob, raising his hands in horror. There was a long pause. The stranger began pulling at his kids, and said : Really, this is incomprehensible. The wrord incomprehensible struck every man withthe force of a cannon ball. Big Blue Bottle, the oldestminer on the claim, fairly turned pale
"Quad's odds"; . he stranger didnt seem to know what to make of sucha greeting, but he continued: Beg pardon, but I desire to tarry here and refresh theinner man. Desire / yelled Jack Lawrrence from behind the stove. Refresh ! screamed the old man Davis from behinda table. THE INKER MAN! squeaked little hump-backedBob, raising his hands in horror. There was a long pause. The stranger began pulling at his kids, and said : Really, this is incomprehensible. The wrord incomprehensible struck every man withthe force of a cannon ball. Big Blue Bottle, the oldestminer on the claim, fairly turned pale, and Sals Brother,another old digger, leaned back in his chair and whisperedthat he wouldnt live three weeks. You could have heard a pin drop. Then, with an awful look on his face, Big Blue Bottlestepped forward and .said, almost in a whisper: Stranger, who be you 1 Im a traveler, and I had intended to halt here andsecure refreshments. Refreshment?! hear that! whispered Sandy Sam toold Johnson. 3G4 DEAD Refreshments! Refreshments! echoed Sals Brother, wiping hiseyes as if there was smoke between him and the stranger. Isnt this a ranch ? demanded thestranger as he looked around. Itsurpasses my comprehension that youmaintain such an attitude to one insearch of the sustenance of life. That speech floored the men. OldBlue Bottle turned as white as snowand gasped out: Sur—sur—surpashus ! Attitood! whispered the Deacon, sliding off thebench. Sus—sus—suste—te ! stammered an old Califor- nian, dropping the plug oftobacco from his was silence. Stranger! commencedBig Blue Bottle in a hoarsevoice, what mought be yourname ? My name ? replied theyoung man, taking a whiff athis cigar— my name is LeonSt. Johns. W-hat ! screamed the oldman. Leon St. Johns, repeated the stranger, eyeing hisquestioner. Dead silence again. Stranger, how are you heeled? finally asked the oldman. « How—what ? Have you got any weepon ?
Size: 1587px × 1573px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthorquadm184, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1875
