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Knibbs, Henry Herbert

"The Ridin' Kid from Powder River"


"You're jest the same ornery, yella-headed, blue-eyed singin'-bird you
always was," declared Pete as they slithered along down the trail.
Andy turned in the saddle and grinned at Pete. "Now that you've give
the blessing parson, will you please and go plumb to hell?"
Pete felt a lot better.
A loose rock slipped from the edge of the trail, and went bounding down
the steep hillside, crashing through a thicket of aspens and landing
with a dull clunk amid a pile of rock that slid a little, and grumbled
sullenly. Blue Smoke had also slipped as his footing gave way
unexpectedly. Pete felt still better. This was something like it!


CHAPTER XLV
HOME FOLKS
Noon found them within sight of the ranch-house. In an hour they were
unsaddling at the corral, having ridden in the back way, at Andy's
suggestion, that they might surprise the folks. But it did not take them
long to discover that there were no folks to surprise. The bunk-house
was open, but the house across from it was locked, and Andy knew
immediately that the Baileys had driven to town, because the pup was
gone, and he always followed the buckboard.


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