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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Trailin'!"

Sally, she told him, not being afraid even of Butch. He got pretty
sore at that and said that it was a frame-up and everyone was ag'in'
him. But finally he allowed that if she'd sit down to the table and keep
him company he'd manage to make out on whatever her cook had ready to
eat."
"And Sally done it?" groaned Nash.
"Sure; it was like a dare--and you know Sally. She'd risk her whole
place any time for the sake of a bet."
"I know it, but don't rub it in."
"She fetched out a steak and served Butch as if he'd been a king and
then sat down beside him and started kiddin' him along, with all the
gang of us sittin' or standin' around and laughin' fit to bust, but not
loud for fear Butch would get annoyed.
"Then two things come in together and spoiled the prettiest little party
that was ever started in Eldara. First was that player piano which Sally
got shipped in and paid God-knows-how-much for; the second was this
greenhorn I was tellin' you about."
"Go on," said Nash, the little snarl coming back in his voice. "Tell me
how the tenderfoot walked up and kicked Butch out of the place.


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