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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Flying U's Last Stand"

"
"We'll sure do that," promised Weary for the bunch. "We can
start in the morning, all right."
"Take a taste uh this wine. None of your tobaccojuice stuff;
this comes straight from Fresno. Senator Blake sent it the
other day. Fill up that glass, Dell! What yuh want to be so
doggone stingy fer? Think this bunch uh freaks are going to
stand for that? They can't git the taste outa less'n a pint.
This ain't any doggone liver-tonic like you dope out."
The Little Doctor smiled understandingly and filled their
glasses with the precious wine from sunland. She did not know
what had happened, but she did know that the Old Man had
seized another hand-hold on life in the last hour, and she
was grateful. She even permitted the Kid to take a tiny sip,
just because the Happy Family hated to see him refused
anything he wanted.
So Flying U coulee was for the time being filled with the
same old laughter and the same atmosphere of care-free
contentment with life. The Countess stewed uncomplainingly in
the kitchen, cooking dinner for the boys. The Old Man
grumbled hypocritically at them from his big chair, and named
their faults in the tone that transmuted them into virtues.
The Little Doctor heard about Miss Allen and her three
partners, who were building a four-room shack on the four
corners of four claims, and how Irish had been caught more
than once in the act of staring fixedly in the direction of
that shack.


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