The Phantom Herd eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 254 pages of information about The Phantom Herd.

The Phantom Herd eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 254 pages of information about The Phantom Herd.

“You look all right to me, brother,” Luck told him in that convincing tone he had.

“Well, same to you,” Andy retorted with a frank heartiness he was not in the habit of bestowing upon strangers.  “I feel as if I’d worked with you.  Pink was with me when we saw that picture, and we both hollered ’Go to it!’ right out loud, when you gathered up the ribbons and yanked off the brake and went off hell-popping and smiling back over your shoulder at us.  It was your size and that smile of yours that made me remember you.  You looked like a kid when you mounted to the boot; and you drove down off smiling, and you had one helanall of a trip, and you drove off that grade looking like you was trying to commit suicide and was smiling still when you pulled up at the post-office.  By gracious, I—­”

Luck gave a little chuckle deep in his throat.  “I did all that smiling the day before I drove off the grade,” he confessed, looking from one to the other.  “I don’t guess I’d have smiled quite so sweet, maybe, if I’d waited.”

“Is that the way you make moving pictures, hind-side-foremost?” Andy, his back to the table, lifted himself over the rim to a comfortable seat and began to make himself a cigarette.

“Yes, or both ways from the middle, just as it happens.”  Luck was always ready to talk pictures.  “In that stage-driver picture I made all the scenes before I made that drive,—­for two reasons.  Biggest one was that I wanted to be sure of having it all made, in case something went wrong on that feature drive; get me?  Other was plain, human bullheadedness.  Some of the four-flushers I was cursed with in the company,—­because they were cheap and I had to balance up what I was paying the Injuns,—­they kept eyeing that bluff where I said I’d come down with the coach, and betting I wouldn’t, and talking off in corners about me just stalling.  I just let ’em sweat.  I made the start, and I made the finish.  I drove right to where I looked down off the pinnacle—­remember?—­and saw the outlaw gang at the foot of the grade; I made all the ‘dissolves,’ and where I went back and captured ’em and brought ’em in to camp.  But I didn’t drive off the grade into the gulch till last thing, as luck would have it.  Good thing, too.  That old coach was sure some busted, and I wasn’t doing any more smiles till I grew some hide.”

Andy Green licked his cigarette and let his honest gray eyes wander from Luck to the darkly handsome face of the Native Son.  “Sounds most as exciting as holding down a homestead, anyway.  Don’t you think so, Mig?  And say!  It’s sure a pity we can’t put off some things in real life till we get all set and ready to handle ’em!”

“That’s right.”  Luck’s face sobered as the idea caught his imagination.  “That’s dead right; how well I know it!”

Andy smoked and swung his feet and regarded Luck with interest.  “It’s against my religious principles to go poking my nose into the other fellow’s business,” he said after a minute, “but I’m wondering if there’s anything in this God-forsaken country to bring a fellow like you here deliberate.  I’m wondering if you meant to stop, or if you just leaned too far out the car window on your way through town.”

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Project Gutenberg
The Phantom Herd from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.