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Harben, Will N. (William Nathaniel), 1858-1919

"Westerfelt"


"Out thar hitched to the fence," answered the leader.
"You-uns was a hell of a time comin'," retorted Wambush.
"Had to git together; most uv us never even heerd uv yore capture tell
a hour by sun. Huh, you'd better thank yore stars we re'ched you when
we did."
The band filed out of the gate and mounted their horses. Toot Wambush
was a little in advance of the others. He suddenly turned his horse
towards the hotel.
Westerfelt instinctively drew back behind the curtain, Harriet caught
his arm and clung to it.
"Go to your room!" she whispered. "You'd better; you must not stay
here." He seemed not to hear; he leaned forward and peered again
through the window. The leader and Wambush had just reined their
horses in at the edge of the sidewalk.
"Come on, Toot; whar you gwine?" asked the leader.
"I want to take that feller with us; I'll never budge 'thout him, you
kin bet your bottom dollar on that."
"He's bad hurt--'bout ter die; don't be a fool!"
"Huh! Doc Lash sent me word he was safe. I didn't hurt 'im; but he
did me; he damaged my feelings, and I want to pay 'im fer it.


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