Not far away his
wife sat, knitting and slowly rocking. Sometimes the old man's face
would light up and then it would darken.
"Shot fo' an' stobbed three," he read. "Hold on, he's about to git
another one. Got him! Oh, you bet he's got him foul. Wait a minit."
Then, gripping the table with one hand and with the other one grasping
the paper, he continued to read: "'Then the Captain findin' himself
again surrounded by the'"--he halted and began to spell out the
word--"'by the--b-a-n-d-i-t-s--threw down his empty pistol, drew his
dirk and--' Who tore this off?" he got up excitedly and demanded. "Here,
fetch me what the Captain done. Never in all my life was I left in sich
a lurch. Why, thar's no tellin' how many mo' he killed. Didn't think
that feller Gabe was sich a good jedge of a paper, but blamed if he
didn't fetch me one with news a oozin' out at every pore. And now
somebody has come along an' grabbed the works outen it. Margaret, don't
you see whut a fix I'm in? Can't you help me?"
Without looking up from her knitting, she replied: "Why, Jasper, that
ain't news.
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