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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Red Saunders, by Henry Wallace Phillips This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Red Saunders Author: Henry Wallace Phillips Release Date: April 29, 2004 [EBook #12196] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED SAUNDERS *** Produced by Al Haines RED SAUNDERS His Adventures West & East By Henry Wallace Phillips 1901 CONTENTS A CHANCE SHOT A RED-HAIRED CUPID THE GOLDEN FORD WHEN THE CHINOOK STRUCK FAIRFIELD A Chance Shot Reddy and I were alone at the Lake beds. He sat outside the cabin, braiding a leather hat-band--eight strands, and the "repeat" figure--an art that I never could master. I sat inside, with a one-pound package of smoking tobacco beside me, and newspapers within reach, rolling the day's supply of cigarettes. Reddy stopped his story long enough to say: "Don't use the 'Princess' Slipper,' Kid--that paper burns my tongue--take the 'Granger'; there's plenty of it." Well, as I was saying, I'd met a lot of the boys up in town this day, and they threw as many as two drinks into me; I know that for certain, because when we took the parting dose, I had a glass of whisky in both my right hands, and had just twice as many friends as when I started. When I pulled out for home, I felt mighty good for myself--not exactly looking for trouble, but not a-going to dodge it any, either. I was warbling "Idaho" for all I was worth--you know how pretty I can sing? Cock-eyed Peterson used to say it made him forget all his troubles. "Because," says he, "you don't notice trifles when a man bats you over the head with a two-by-four." Well, I was enjoying everything in sight, even a little drizzle of rain that was driving by in rags of wetness, when a flat-faced swatty at Fort Johnson halted me. Now it's a dreadful thing to be butted to death by a nanny-goat, but for a full-sized cowpuncher to be held up by a soldier is worse yet. To say that I was hot under the collar don't give you the right idea of the way I felt. "Why, you cross between the Last Rose of Summer and a bobtailed flush!" says I, "what d'yer mean? What's got into you? Get
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