Pete wondered what was
coming when it came. Andy swung his arm and plugged a fair-sized
mud-ball at Pete, which missed him and hit the innocent and unsuspecting
Bill on the ear, and stayed there. Bill Haskins, who was at the moment
helping the hero hold a spirited pair of horses while the heroine climbed
to a seat in the romantic buckboard, promptly pulled on the reins and
shouted "Whoa!" and the debilitated novel came apart in his hands with a
soft, ripping sound. It took Bill several seconds to think of something
to say, and several more to realize just what had happened. He opened
his mouth--but Andy interrupted with "Honest, Bill, I wasn't meanin' to
hit you. I was pluggin' at Pete, there. It was his fault; he went and
hid out behind you. Honest, Bill--wait and I'll help you dig that there
mud out of your ear."
Bill shook his head and growled as he scraped the mud from his face and
neck. Andy, gravely solicitous, helped to remove the mud and
affectionately wiped his fingers in Bill's hair.
"Here--what in hell you doin'!" snorted Bill.
"That's right! I was forgittin'! Honest, Bill!"
"I'll honest you! I'll give you somethin' to forgit.
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