Saturday, December 5, 2009

A most conservative estimate--that is about the sum " Mr. Crockett answered promptly. "Suppose I said right now that I wanted a hundred dollars!" Dick went on. "Why--er--ahem. " Mr. Slocum.

Ya who's yella. " Lennie looked helplessly at George and then he got up and tried to retreat. Curley was balanced and poised. He slashed at Lennie with his left and then smashed down his nose with a right. Lennie .
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The bottom of a large shallow hole. From all about him arose the stench of dead horses. The hole was handy to the trail and the packers had made a practice of tumbling into it their broken and dying animals. The stench overpowered him making him deadly sick and as in a nightmare he scrambled out. Half-way up he recollected Bondell's gripsack. It had fallen into the hole with him; the pack-strap had evidently broken and he had forgotten it. Back he went into the pestilential charnel-pit where he crawled around on hands and knees and groped for half an hour. Altogether he encountered and counted seventeen dead horses (and one horse still alive that he shot with his revolver) before he found Bondell's grip. Looking back upon a life that had not been without valour and achievement he unhesitatingly declared to himself.
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