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AN INSULT AVENGED
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with, his eyes fixed intently upon the oncoming horse, then the noose whirled through the air and dropped about its head. The noose closed, the rope grew taut, and the big sorrel braced its feet.
"Good boy, Ben; you shore can twist the manilla;" The L.X. outfit was hearty in its praise.
"I don't mind the greaser," Ben explained as he dragged the half-drowned animal up the bank, "but a good horse—well it would a set heavy on my conscience."
