Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Bold Play; Or, The Tiger of the Hills онлайн

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“I know the Dutchman,” said the fellow. “He was wearin’ miner’s clo’es, like he did when he piked out with them prospectors. I dunno what he was doin’ up there.”

“What hour was this?” the scout asked.

“Now, I’ll tell ye how ’twas,” said the fellow, laying a hand on the scout’s arm with confidential and offensive familiarity. “I was boozin’ las’ night, and I had wandered up there for a snooze, to git over it; there air trees growin’ along the slope by Juniper Joe’s, an’ they make a dandy sleepin’ place. I camped down there early in the evening; mebby ’twas nine o’clock; and I went to sleep at onct. About four, er mebby five, in the mornin’. I awoke with a tur’ble thirst; you know how ’tis! I was so thirsty it woke me.

“It was too early to git a drink. I knowed that; and I hadn’t tuck any whisky up there with me. While I was wonderin’ how I was goin’ to live out the time until Gopher Gabe’d open his shutters down here, I seen the Dutchman; he come stealin’ along through the trees, right by me. That’s all I know.”