|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 98
"Whoa! whoa! Yes'm. I've heard of them Kansas cyclones, but I
ain't never got hit with one afore."
Polly started all over again. "And Jack, did you find him?--tell
me all about it."
"See yeah," answered Slim, "I ain't goin' to say nuthin' to
nobody till I see Mrs. Payson."
"Oh, pshaw!" pouted Polly; "not even me?"
"Not even--what I've got to say she must heah first. I'm kinder
stiff--if you don't mind, I'll set down a spell."
Slim's face was drawn and worn. Although he had lost none of his
weight, he showed the effects of the siege of hard riding and
fighting through which he had passed.
The mental strain under which he had labored had also worn him
down. Polly was more than solicitous for his comfort. Not only
did she like the Sheriff, but she was now fencing with him to
protect her sweetheart from his wrath. She had concluded that
Bud's charge that the Sheriff was locoed and jealous was a cover
to conceal some genuine apprehension.
"You look tuckered out," she said.
"Well, I 'low as maybe I am. Been in the saddle for two weeks.
Kin I have a cup of coffee?"
Polly began to mother him. This appeal for bodily comforts
aroused all her womanly instincts. She made him sit down and
poured the coffee for him saying: "You sure can. With or
without?"
"I'll play it straight," grinned Slim.
"I reckon you'll have to, anyway. Here you are."
Slim took the cup with a "thankee."
He drank long and deeply. Then he paused, made a wry face, and
danced his feet up and down, as a child does in anger or
excitement.
"What's the matter?" asked the girl, with a laugh.
"If this yeah's coffee give me tea, an' if it's tea give me
coffee." The Sheriff put down his cup with a shrug of the
shoulders.
"It's the best we've got," replied Polly. "Sage-brush got it."
"Oh, that's it. I thought it tasted like sage-brush. How's
Bud?" he suddenly demanded.
Polly glanced nervously at the speaker.
"All right, I s'pose." She tried to be noncommittal.
Her nervousness almost betrayed her.
"Ain't you seen him lately?" Slim insisted.
Polly peeped into the wagon before she answered the question.
"Yes--I see him every once in a while."
In an effort to change the subject of conversation, and get him
away from all thoughts of Bud, she asked: "Say, Slim, what's a
boudoir?"
"A what whar?" stuttered Slim.
"A boudoir," Polly repeated.
Slim was puzzled, and looked it. Then a new thought lighted up
his face.
"You don't mean a Budweiser, do you?"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|