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White, Stewart Edward, 1873-1946

"The Rules of the Game"

"
He eyed the gun-man truculently. Certainly even Bob could not have
accused him of physical cowardice at that moment.
Saleratus Bill stared back at him with the steady, venomous glare of a
rattlesnake. Then his lips, under his straggling, sandy moustache,
parted in a slow grin.
"Say your say," he conceded. "I reckon you're mad; I reckon that boy
man-handled you something scand'lous."
At the words Oldham's face became still more congested.
"But you look a-here," said Saleratus Bill, suddenly leaning across
from his saddle and pointing a long, lean finger. "You just remember
this: I took this yere job with too many strings tied to it. I mustn't
hurt him; and I must see no harm comes to him; and I must be noways
cruel to mama's baby. You had me hobbled, and then you cuss me out
because I can't get over the rocks. If you'd turned me loose with no
instructions except to disappear your man, I'd have earned my money."
He dropped his hand to the butt of his six-shooter, and looked his
principal in the eye.
"I'm just as sorry as you are that he made this get-away," he continued
slowly.


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