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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"The Sky Pilot, a Tale of the Foothills"


The most of them had few opportunities of lavishing love and sympathy
upon worthy objects and, when the opportunity came, all that was best in
them clamored for expression.

CHAPTER XVII
HOW THE PINTO SOLD

The glow of virtuous feeling following the performance of their generous
act prepared the men for a keener enjoyment than usual of a night's
sport. They had just begun to dispose themselves in groups about the
fire for poker and other games when Hi rode up into the light and with
him a stranger on Gwen's beautiful pinto pony.
Hi was evidently half drunk and, as he swung himself of his bronco,
he saluted the company with a wave of the hand and hoped he saw them
"kickin'."
Bill, looking curiously at Hi, went up to the pinto and, taking him by
the head, led him up into the light, saying:
"See here, boys, there's that pinto of mine I was telling you about; no
flies on him, eh?"
"Hold on there! Excuse me!" said the stranger, "this here hoss belongs
to me, if paid-down money means anything in this country."
"The country's all right," said Bill in an ominously quiet voice, "but
this here pinto's another transaction, I reckon."
"The hoss is mine, I say, and what's more, I'm goin' to hold him," said
the stranger in a loud voice.
The men began to crowd around with faces growing hard.


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