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If we lose today, Buffalo, with three games more to play at home, will pull the bunting, I went on. «But they're not going to win! I'm putting it up to you that way. I know Spears is all in; Raddy's arm is gone; Ash is playing on one leg; you're all crippled. But you've got one more game in you, I know. These last few weeks the Rube has been pitching out of turn and he's about all in, too. He's kept us in the lead. If he wins today it'll be Rube's Pennant.»

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If the Rube marries Nan—what are we goin' to do? We can't leave him behind. If he takes Nan with us—why it'll be a honeymoon! An' half the gang is stuck on Nan Brown! An' Nan Brown would flirt in her bridal veil! … Why Con, we're up against a worse proposition than ever.

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Breckenridge’s pap sends him in to War Paint to pick up his long lost uncle. Always obliging, Breckenridge does as he’s told—in a way only Breckenridge can.

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Breckenridge goes to Cougar Paw on an errand for his brother, and is unfortunate enough to become embroiled in a riot while he is there. Poor Breckenridge. Why does this always happen to him?

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Breckenridge heads to Haunted Mountain to retrieve his uncle, but there are some surprises in store. Breckenridge is one of them.

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Some day, maybe, when I'm old and gray in the whiskers, I'll have sense enough not to stop when I'm riding by Uncle Shadrach Polk's cabin, and Aunt Tascosa Polk hollers at me. Take the last time, for instance. I ought to of spurred Cap'n Kidd into a high run when she stuck her head out'n the winder and yelled: «Breckinridge! Oh, Breckinridddgggge!»…

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Breckenridge sets out to save a young man from himself. Nobody could be better suited for such a sensitive task than Breckenridge.

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Breckenridge is volunteered to escort a hapless bunch of Kansas immigrants to Arizona. What could possibly go wrong?

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And then some more fellers butted in and everybody started cussing and hollering till it nigh deefened me. Someone else reaches for a gun and I seen that as soon as one feller shoots another there is bound to be trouble so I started to gentle the first feller by hitting him over the head. The next thing I know someone hollers at me, «You big hyener!», and tries to ruint me with a knife. Purty soon there is hitting and shooting all over the town. High Horse is sure on a rampage.

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This business begun with Uncle Garfield Elkins coming up from Texas to visit us. Between Grizzly Run and Chawed Ear the stage got held up by some masked bandits, and Uncle Garfield, never being able to forget that he was a gun-fighting fool thirty or forty years ago, pulled his old cap-and-ball instead of putting up his hands like he was advised to. For some reason, instead of blowing out his light, they merely busted him over the head with a .45 barrel, and when he come to he was rattling on his way toward Chawed Ear with the other passengers, minus his money and watch. It was his watch what caused the trouble.