CHAPTER XIII. THE SIEGE OF DOUBLE MOUNTAIN (Continued)
CHAPTER XIV. FLIGHT
CHAPTER XV. GOOD-BY
CHAPTER XVI. THE LAND OF AFTERNOON
CHAPTER XVII. TWENTIETH CENTURY
CHAPTER XVIII. AT THE RAINBOW’S END
Отрывок из книги
The long fall round-up was over. The wagon, homeward bound, made camp for the last night out at the Sinks of Lost River. Most of the men, worn with threescore night-guards, were buried under their tarps in the deep sleep of the weary; sound as that of the just, and much more common.
By the low campfire a few yet lingered: old-timers, iron men, whose wiry and seasoned strength was toil-proof – and Leo Ballinger, for whom youth, excitement and unsated novelty served in lieu of fitness.
.....
“Shet your fool head,” said Pringle amiably. “You may be on the jury. I’m going to seek my virtuous couch. Glad we don’t have to bed no cattle, viva voce, this night.”
“Ain’t he the Latin scholar?” said Headlight admiringly. “They blow about that wire Julius Cæsar sent the Associated Press, but old man Pringle done him up for levity and precision when he wrote us the account of his visit to the Denver carnival. Ever hear about it, Sagittarius?”
