He was trying to think. What was it his pa had said so often? "Remember, son, the only thing that makes a man able to get along in this world is his brain. A man doesn't have the claws a bear has, nor the strength of a bull. He doesn't have the nose of a wolf, nor the wings of a hawk, but he has a brain. You're going to get along in this world as long as you use it."
(from Down the Long Hills, by Louis L'Amour)
"They're out there somewhere, Bill. We've got to find them."
"If they're alive, we'll find them."
The dancing fire brought no comfort, but the food was good, and the strong black coffee helped to lift their spirits a little.
"We'd better stand watch," Squires suggested. "Me and Frank will stand the first two. Get yourself some sleep."
And Scott Collins did sleep, and while he slept he dreamed of a great red stallion and two childen, who rode on and on through endless nights of cold.
(from Down the Long Hills, by Louis L'Amour)
"I'll holster my gun, an' then you can try, all three of you. Of course," Mooney smiled a pleasant Irish smile, "you get my first shot, right through the belly."
Don Pedro was no fool. It was obvious to him that even if they did kill the gringo that it would do nothing for Don Pedro, for the scion of an ancient house would be cold clay upon the Sonora desert. It was a most uncomfortable thought, for Don Pedro had a most high opinion of the necessity for Don Pedro's continued existence.
(from "Long Ride Home," by Louis L'Amour)
"Did Tollefson actually see those skeletons?"
"He sure did." Fulton's voice was dry, emotionless. "And from what he said, if that was Tandy Meadows who walked into that shack after the Alvarez boys, he's got nerve enough to crawl down a hole after a nest full of rattlers, believe me!"
(from "Ride or Start Shootin'," by Louis L'Amour)
"She was with them on the boat," the Kid explained. "She even got into the poker game when they tried to rook me. She's good, too," he added, "but she must have been the one who tipped them off. It had to be somebody who knew I'd be carrying the money. Who is she?"
"She's been working for me!" MacIntosh said angrily. "Working until just now. I never did put no truck in women folks workin' around offices but she convinced me she could help me and she didn't cost me no more'n a third what a man cost!"
"With a woman," the Cactus Kid said, "it ain't the original cost. It's the upkeep!"
(from "The Cactus Kid Pays a Debt," by Louis L'Amour)
On the Walking YY and in its vicinity the Kid was a living legend, and the only person in his home country who did not tremble at the Kid's step was Jenny Simms - or if she did, it was in another sense.
(from "The Cactus Kid Pays a Debt," by Louis L'Amour)
Mesquite Jenkins had long been a disciple of the idea that once the point of battle is reached, no good can result from continued conversation or argument. The guard had told him what to do. He turned on his heel with a shrug, but suddenly, as he turned, his right hand shot up, grasped the man's rifle by the middle, and shoved. The guard staggered, the bench caught him behind the knees, and his heels flew up, his head down. His head tunked dully on the butt end of a log, and the guard blanked out.
(from The Riders of High Rock, by Louis L'Amour)
He turned to Sue. "You're riding - were you going to look over the ground?"
"Yes. I don't want Frank to go. He'd keep on going and maybe get killed for his pains. After all, he's the only friend we have here now."
Bolt looked offended. "Now, Miss Sue, I don't take that kindly. I've always thought myself a friend of yours, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."
Sue was contrite. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
Gillespie turned away with disgust written in every line of him. He watched them ride off with narrowed eyes. Maybe, he reflected, he was a fool, but if Jack Bolt was an honest man, he was next in line to be Emperor of China!
(from The Riders of High Rock, by Louis L'Amour)
Jack Bolt rode on, following the winding trail towards the wide range of the 3TL. The farther he rode, the more he wondered if this was not the best way after all. He did not hesitate to admit the truth to himself. The gunfire and the hum of lead had done something to him. Four years or so of absence from gunfighting and killing had changed his thinking. Cowering on the floor, hearing the bullets punch through the walls of his cabin, knowing that any one of them could mean death had put something into him that had gone clear to the bottom of his mind and his stomach. He did not like being shot at. When he was younger he had been heedless. He had believed the bullet had not been made that would kill him. Death had seemed fantastically far away.
It was always that way when you were young. Well, he was older now and knew that death was no respecter of persons. There had to be an easier way.
(from The Riders of High Rock, by Louis L'Amour)
High on the slope of Copper Mountain, Red Connors was feeling better. Plenty to eat and drink, the high, pure air, and rest had done marvels for him. His wound was healing rapidly, and he was growing restless with inactivity. Somewhere down below, Hopalong was busy and might be needing him. There was still plenty of grub and his horse was in fine shape, but Red was growing restless. Moreover, he had been shot at too often without a chance to return the courtesy.
"That Hoppy!" he growled half-aloud. "He's stealin' all the fun!"
(from The Riders of High Rock, by Louis L'Amour)
