Marion Marlowe in Omaha, or, Held up by Accident — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

20 I—so, as fhere was no one to see us, it didn’t matter.” _ “I reck’n it didn’t,’ was the ranchman’s quick reply. “TI reck’n you two wuz as pretty as pictures on thet thar old nag! Pity you _ couldn’t hev had er thoroughbred, though. ve got no end er thoroughbreds, an’ some on ’em air beauties!” “Oh, how lovely!” cried the fair girl, as she guided .the mustangs over a rough place sticking out of the snow. dogs on your ranch, and sheep and cattle?” The old fellow nodded. He was perfectly happy now. The young girl had started him upon his particular hobby. ‘“Ther’s the finest kennel in Arizony on thet thar ranch, ef I do say so, Miss Marler,” he said, proudly. “Ther’s setters, an’ point- ers, an’ bloodhounds by ther dozen.” Marion gave a cry of dismay as he men- tioned the last. “Oh, Mr. Dickson! why do you raise bloodhounds ? I have a perfect horror of them!” They are such dreadful crea- tures ! “Wa’al, they come purty handy in our country,” the “Thar’s need of er bloodhound now an’ agin, was ranchman’s answer. an’ I kin tell yer er good one is er right down useful critter. Why, not er month passes on ther ranch without sumthin’ or other bein’ stole, an’ powerful snakes! a man wouldn't stan’ no show ter ketch ther thief ef it wuzn’t fer them dog detectives. Jes give ‘em er snif of ther feller’s footprints, an’ away they go, as true as er bullet! ’Tain’t often my dogs come back with their tails atween ther legs. They’re gen’rally in at ther death— an’ thet’s what makes ’em vally’ble.” “But it is such an awful thing to hunt hu- man beings with dogs!” murmuted Marion, with a shudder, “Ther dogs is more human than the scally- wag they’re after, every time, Miss Marler,” the solemn answer. ‘Why, my dogs was ‘“And do you have . MY QUEEN. would be ashamed’ ter do what some of our e . J . © \ , Arizony ruff-scuff takes pride in doin’; an’ I__ reck’n thet thar is erbout ther condition in. other parts of ther country. A dog wouldn’t | steal yer cattle, nor put er bullet in yer back. Ef he wuz er goin’ ter hurt ye at all, there’d | be a growl of warnin’. They'd give yer time ter pertect yerself, or git outer ther way, an’ thet thar ain’t ther practice of human bein’s.” Marion breathed a sigh. She knew he spoke truthfully. How many times had she been the victim of some human _being’s treachery? 7 The country was growing a little wilder now, and the young girl. suddenly thought of the other members of the party. She glanced back over her shoulder, but there was no one in sight. The next minute a vicious plunge of the ponies forced her to _ give them all of her attention. “Well done! Thet thar wuz as good ez I could do it! | proud of, an’ no mistake,’ You'll make er driver ter be * said the commo- dore, approvingly, as she pulled in the mus- tangs. Then he suddenly leaned forward a little and put one of his big hands over both of her own. : “Don't yé think yer'd like ther ranch?” he said, as softly as his big voice would permit. “Don’t yer think yer’d like ter live among ther dogs an’ lambs an’ hosses? It’s er nice place, Miss Marler; an’ ther scen’ry is beauti- ful! partickerly yer sister Dollie, an’ [’d make yer Ye could hev yer friends ter visit yer, as happy as any lady in ther land Don't yer think yer could marry ther grizzly old ranch- man?” : It had come at last, but Marion was par- tially prepared for it, so she was able to think and speak very calmly. “You are very good, indeed, to like me, sir,” she said, simply; “but I am sure you will understand when I tell you that I have Eomichbooks . com