"
Two minutes of absolute silence ticked away in the wake of Baldy's
words. It was broken by the House, who, happily conceiving the moment
to be ripe for extending hospitality, sent a dozen whisky glasses
spinning down the bar, with the slower travelling bottle bringing up
the rear.
"Didn't you tell him?" asked the miner called Trinidad.
"Well, no," answered Baldy, pensively; "I never exactly seen my way
to.
"You see, Cherokee had this Christmas mess already bought and paid
for; and he was all flattered up with self-esteem over his idea; and
we had in a way flew the flume with that fizzy wine I speak of; so I
never let on."
"I cannot refrain from a certain amount of surprise," said the Judge,
as he hung his ivory-handled cane on the bar, "that our friend
Cherokee should possess such an erroneous conception of--ah--his, as
it were, own town."
"Oh, it ain't the eighth wonder of the terrestrial world," said Baldy.
"Cherokee's been gone from Yellowhammer over seven months. Lots of
things could happen in that time.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362