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Mulford, Clarence Edward, 1883-1956

"Bar-20 Days"


"If we don't hear no ruction in a few minutes we'll know he got away all
right," Barr soliloquized. "An' he's got a fine cayuse for mud, too."
"Hey, why can't you do the same thing if he makes it?" Johnny suddenly
asked. "I can hold her alone, all right."
"Yo're a cheerful liar, you are," laughed Barr. "But can _you_ ride?"
"Reckon so, but I ain't a-going to."
"Why, we _both_ can go--it's a cinch!" Barr cried. "Come on!"
"Lord!--an' I never even thought of that! Reckon I was too mad," Johnny
replied. "But I sort of hates to leave Jackson an' Edwards," he added,
sullenly.
"But they're gone! You can't do them no good by staying."
"Yes; I know. An' how about Lacey chipping in on our fight?" demanded
Johnny. "I ain't a-going to leave him to take it all. You go, Barr; it
wasn't yore fight, nohow. You didn't even know what you was fighting
for!"
"Huh! When anybody shoots at me it's my fight, all right," replied Barr,
seating himself on the floor behind the breastwork. "I forgot all about
Lacey," he apologized. At that instant a tomato can went _spang!_ and
fell off the shelf. "An' it's too late, anyhow; they ain't a-going to
let nobody else get away on that side."
"An' they're tuning up again, too," Johnny replied, preparing for
trouble. "Look out for a rush, Barr."

CHAPTER XIX
THE BAR-20 RETURNS.


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