have your name, if you please, buddy.’
‘Robert Lumsden. The picture belongs to my mother. She puts it under her pillow of nights. And once I saw her kiss it. I wouldn’t. But women are that way.’
Cherokee rose and beckoned to Trinidad.
‘Keep this boy by you till I come back,’ he said. ‘I’m goin’ to shed these Christmas duds, and hitch up my sleigh. I’m goin’ to take this kid home.’
‘Well, infidel,’ said Trinidad, taking Cherokee’s vacant chair, ‘and so you are too superannuated and effete to yearn for such mockeries as candy and toys, it seems.’
‘I don’t like you,’ said Bobby, with acrimony. ‘You said there would be a rifle. A fellow can’t even smoke. I wish I was at home.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
