. Outing. for the hundredthtime since sundown. And again he be-moaned the fickleness of woman. A clatter of hoofs at the crossingmoved him to action. He rose to hisfeet, unbuckling his pistols. The grim-ness of despairing recklessness was inhis face. I reckon its McVea and his dirtycrowd, he said. And he tried hispistols to see that they were ready forthe work he was to give them. Then out of the shadows of the cross-ing rode a woman. Directly for thefallen log at the edge of the cottonwoodshe rode, and Montys pistols went backinto their holsters. I have come back, said a subduedand repentant
. Outing. for the hundredthtime since sundown. And again he be-moaned the fickleness of woman. A clatter of hoofs at the crossingmoved him to action. He rose to hisfeet, unbuckling his pistols. The grim-ness of despairing recklessness was inhis face. I reckon its McVea and his dirtycrowd, he said. And he tried hispistols to see that they were ready forthe work he was to give them. Then out of the shadows of the cross-ing rode a woman. Directly for thefallen log at the edge of the cottonwoodshe rode, and Montys pistols went backinto their holsters. I have come back, said a subduedand repentant feminine voice. For another steer, I reckon, saidMonty resentfully. Miss McVea was down beside , she said, her voice all a-quiver,for the entire Double Cross says you shant be a work for you at the Bar Cross. Oh, Monty! came Buds voice fromthe bunkhouse door, its bedtime ifyoure thinkin of drivin in the morn-in! But to Buds ears came no answeringsound from the
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel
