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Duffield, J. W.

"Bert Wilson in the Rockies"

The sky seemed
fairly to open, and the rain descended in solid sheets. The ranchmen took
it all calmly, however, and loafed lazily in their bunks, smoking pipes
and gazing contemplatively up at the roof. Weather conditions they had
learned to take as a matter of course, as all men do who earn a living in
the open, and they accepted philosophically what Dame Nature meted out to
them.
The fury of the storm continued unabated for perhaps half an hour, and
then began to slacken perceptibly. The wind still tore at the rude
building and the rain continued to fall heavily, but with less of their
former violence. The rattle of the rain on the roof grew less deafening,
and it became possible to make one's self heard without being under the
necessity of shouting.
"I reckon the worst of it's over," remarked Sandy, after a time; "but
this here rain ain't goin' to stop fer an hour or more, and I vote that
to while away the ted-ium of this here interval some one o' you
shorthorns tells us a yarn. You're all good liars, and yuh ought to be
able to make somethin' up if yuh can't rec-lect nothin' thet really
happened.


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