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Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

"Bunch Grass A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch"

I've
salted that down many a long year. No, sir, Mandy is mine, an' Mandy
will do jest as I say. She minds me well, does Mandy. She won't marry
till I give the word--an' I ain't agoin' to give the word."
He snapped his lantern jaws, and grinned in Nal's face. The
selfishness which rated its sordid interest paramount to any
consideration for others appalled the young man. How could he stem
this tide of avarice, this torrent of egoism?
"So love don't go?" said Nal shortly.
"No, sonny, love don't go--leastways not with me."
"Mebbe you think I'm after the grease," remarked Nal with
deliberation, "but I ain't. Folks say ye're rich, Mr. Bobo, but I
don't keer for that. I'm after Mandy, an' I'll take her in her
chimmy."
"I'll be damned if ye will, Nal! Ye won't take Mandy at all, an'
that's all there is about it."
"Say," said Mr. Roberts, his fine eyes aglow with inspiration, "say,
I'll make ye a cold business proposition, fair an' square betwixt man
an' man. I'll buy Mandy from ye, at the market price--there!"
From beneath his penthouse brows Mr. Bobo peered curiously at this
singular youth.


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