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It was at this time, on June 10, 1866, that he married his first wife Sarah Simms Jacobs.
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was and at
He found that if he was tired enough at night, he went to sleep simply because he was too exhausted to stay awake.
Dawn would come soon and the night was at its coldest.
And he was fleeing, running -- fleeing his death and his life at the same time.
Then he was on his way at a gallop.
He scuttled in shadow along the east wall of the stockade and then followed the south wall until he was at the rear of the two frame buildings.
A man was standing in the open door of the lighted orderly room a few yards to Mike's left, but he, too, suddenly made up his mind and went racing to join the confused activity at the east end of the stockade.
Next to him was a young boy I was sure had sat near me at one of the trading sessions.
She had picked up the quirt and was twirling it around her wrist and smiling at him.
I was nearly thirty at the time.
only the counter at one end was lighted by a long fluorescent tube suspended directly above it.
I was at once disappointed, although just what I had expected him to look like I could not have explained.
This desire, I went on, growing voluble as my conviction was aroused, had mounted at such a rate recently that I now found its realization necessary not only to my physical but also to my spiritual wellbeing.
Facing the forest now, she who had not dared to enter it before, walked between two trees at random and headed in what she believed was the direction of the pool.
She regarded them as signs that she was nearing the glen she sought, and she was glad to at last be doing something positive in her unenunciated, undefined struggle with the mountain and its darkling inhabitants.
laughing at a dying man, laughing as a man was beaten to death.
He'd started a fire and put coffee on, and now was busy at the work board of his chuck wagon.
Hank had gathered wood for a cookfire, and his wife was busy at it now.
Tom Horn was soon back at work, giving his secret employers their money's worth.
Haying time was close at hand, and they needed some strong branches to repair a hay rack.
`` It was Brenner's idea '', Jess mumbled, dabbing at his nose.
Seeing them waiting there at the foot of Emigrant Rock was so overwhelming that, for a good minute after they rounded the bend and started down the grade leading toward them, Matilda could not speak at all.
was and time
He was silent a moment, thinking he could use a man this time of year, and if the girl could cook, it would give him more time in the meadows, but he knew nothing about the couple.
She brought up her free hand to hit him, but this time he was quicker.
The coyote was calling again, and he hoped that this time there would be no other sounds to interrupt it.
No one was behind it, but in the rear wall of the office I noticed, for the first time, a door which had been left partially open.
It was a bold, dark castle of pine boughs that stood like a medieval fortress, eclipsing the sun and human time.
At one and the same time, she was within it but still searching for the drawbridge that would give her entry.
I found a trooper once the Apache had spread-eagled on an ant hill, and another time we ran across some teamsters they'd caught, tied upside down on their own wagon wheels over little fires until their brains was exploded right out o' their skulls.
One thing was certain -- his method was effective, so effective that after a time even the warning notices were often unnecessary.
Out in the center of the circle the farmer, who was Dan, wasted no time when they came to the line, `` The farmer choose his wife ''.
From the time the chocks were pulled until the plane was out of sight, he knew Donovan would keep his back to the strip.
It was all Greg had time to see.
I seized the rack and made a western-style flying-mount just in time, one of my knees mercifully landing on my duffel bag -- and merely wrecking my camera, I was to discover later -- my other knee landing on the slivery truck floor boards and -- but this is no medical report.
Just as I got to my knees, there was again the sound of the fence stretching, and I had time only to start taking my kneeling posture seriously.
The Indian was again raising his bottle, but to my astonished relief -- probably only a fraction of Johnson's -- the bottle this time went to the Indian's lips.
There was no time to pick out a penny ; ;
This time there was no sound of brakes but the shrieking of women.
`` No, I remembered reading about you in the papers and that you lived here, and when it happened all I could think of was '' -- This time she stopped the rush of words herself.
My new Aunt was perhaps three or four years older than I and it had been a long time since I had seen as gorgeous a woman who oozed sex.
I was aware of a humid look in her eyes that told me the time was opportune.
was and on
He was thinking of Rittenhouse and how he had left him there, to rock to death on the porch of the Splendide.
The Gap looming before him -- the place where had confronted Jack English on that day so many years ago -- was his exit from all that had meaning to him.
Someone evidently was on duty there.
The bullet had torn through the flesh just above the knee, inflicting an ugly gash that was forming a pool of blood on the floor.
Mike tested the leg and found that he was able to hobble around on it.
Then he went on to the Cheyennes and told them that the Sioux was goin' to move up.
In the brief moment I had to talk to them before I took my post on the ring of defenses, I indicated I was sickened by the methods men employed to live and trade on the river.
What else he said was lost in the rattle of gunfire on all sides.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and went down on one knee, taking her weight so that some of the wind was driven out of him.
He got up slowly, and she was already on her feet, and he stood facing her.
On a shelf in the office behind the counter was a small radio dialed permanently on a station which broadcast only vulgar commercials and cheap popular music.
Once, pressing him, I learned that his job was only part-time, in the afternoons when nothing went on in the hall.
It was to him that Barton had sent Carl Dill on Dill's release from the prison.
When they reached their neighbor's house, Pamela said a few polite words to Grace and kissed Melissa lightly on the forehead, the impulse prompted by a stray thought -- of the type to which she was frequently subject these days -- that they might never see one another again.
He had to depend on himself, since he was invariably miles and hours away from others.
He'd put on his old brown corduroy coat and it was already soaked.
He was puffing on a cigar, and he was turning up his coat collar against the rain.
No man laid a hand on him, but the threat of violence was there.
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