Frank V Webster

Cowboy Dave; Or, the Round-up at Rolling River Frank V Webster

Publisher Marketing: AFTER STRAY CATTLE "Hi! Yi! Yip!" "Woo-o-o-o! Wah! Zut!" "Here we come!" What was coming seemed to be a thunderous cloud of dust, from the midst of which came strange, shrill sounds, punctuated with sharp cries, that did not appear to be altogether human. The dust-cloud grew thicker, the thunder sounded louder, and the yells were shriller. From one of a group of dull, red buildings a sun-bronzed man stepped forth. He shaded his eyes with a brown, powerful hand, gazed for an instant toward the approaching cloud of animated and vociferous dust and, turning to a smiling Chinese who stood near, with a pot in his hand, remarked in a slow, musical drawl: "Well Hop Loy, here they are, rip-roarin' an' snortin' from th' round-up!" "Alle samee hungly, too," observed the Celestial with unctious blandness. "You can sure make a point of that Hop Loy," went on the other. "Hungry is their middle name just now, and you'd better begin t' rustle th' grub, or I wouldn't give an empty forty-five for your pig-tail." "Oi la!" fairly screamed the Chinese, as, with a quick gesture toward his long queue, he scuttled toward the cook house, which stood in the midst of the other low ranch buildings. "Glub leady alle samee light now!" Hop Loy cried over his shoulder.