Hashknife and Sleepy return to try THE LUCK OF SAN MIGUEL It was the last day of the fall roundup, and the sun was only an hour high above the Oregon hills. Cowboys were unsaddling at the corral, laughing, joking, looking forward to the evening in town, when with pockets full of money they might woo the goddess of the green cloth and drink enough to cut the alkali from their dry throats.…
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