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Rh "That so? Don't forget to give us the order for the wind-mill," called the other.

"Bet your life I won't," said Al, from the threshold; then he slammed the door behind him, thumped into the spring seat, and cursed the horses into action.

Newton Wilberforce Hart, for that was the clerk's name in full, went back to the lamp (it was very dark in the store on rainy days) and opened his book. It was an old-fashioned volume and it gave forth the attractive, musty smell that the bookworm delights in. It was written by somebody (long since forgotten) on The Laws of Civil Government. The young man read a few lines, and then closed the book with a snap that sent some of the loose waybills flying off the desk lid on to the floor. He picked them carefully up, and, turning down the lamp, walked to the front of the store. Two months before he had been appointed deputy sheriff, and had signalized his appointment immediately by taking into custody Mr. Bord McGovern, who, after committing various offences great and small, had long defied the authorities along the Platte River; the gentleman's last little venture being the wounding of