"
"Good! The rarer it is the better. Some raw eggs and a good
strong vegetable--"
"Onions?"
"Fine! We'll save him yet!"
"We'll get the grub."
"And he'll eat it!" Willie nodded firmly.
Stover issued another order, this time to Carara. "You 'n Cloudy
butcher the wildest four-year-old you can find. If you can't get
close enough to rope him, shoot him, and bring in a hind quarter.
It's got to be here in time for breakfast."
"Si, Senor!" The Mexican picked up his lariat; the Indian took a
Winchester from an upper bunk and filled it with cartridges.
"Of course, he'll have to eat out here; they spoil him up at the
house."
"Sure thing!"
"I'd hate to see him lose; it would be a terrible blow to Miss
Blake." Fresno shook his head doubtfully.
"What about us?"
"Oh, you can stand it--but she's a girl. Ah, well," the speaker
sighed, "I hope nothing occurs between now and Saturday to
prevent his running."
"It won't," Stover grimly assured the Californian. "Nothin'
whatever is goin' to occur."
"He was speaking yesterday about the possibility of some business
engagement--"
The small man in glasses interrupted.
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