(cMailman.Message Message qoq}q(U_headersq]q((U Return-PathU"tq(U X-Original-ToUkosar@list.dimnet.hutq(U Delivered-ToUkosar@list.dimnet.hutq(UReceivedU~from dimnet (localhost [127.0.0.1]) by dimnet.hu (Postfix) with ESMTP id E01EB114C437; Thu, 27 Nov 2014 02:50:06 +0100 (CET)tq (UX-Virus-ScannedUamavisd-new at dimnet.hutq (UReceivedUœfrom dimnet.hu ([127.0.0.1]) by dimnet (dimnet.hu [127.0.0.1]) (amavisd-new, port 10024) with ESMTP id vQU-UhZm1Vjy; Thu, 27 Nov 2014 02:50:06 +0100 (CET)tq (UReceivedU­from phnomus.us (hobgoblin.phnomus.us [198.12.111.214]) by dimnet.hu (Postfix) with ESMTP id BC8A1114C428 for ; Thu, 27 Nov 2014 02:49:53 +0100 (CET)tq (UReceivedUŒby phnomus.us id heq1ps0001gg for ; Wed, 26 Nov 2014 17:46:39 -0800 (envelope-from )tq (U MIME-VersionU1.0tq(UFromU:"HealthierChoicesToday" tq(UToUtq(USubjectUjRE: kosar@list.dimnet.hu - How Kidney Beans Work (Explained in article) - Issue#59827 on November 26, 2014tq(U Content-TypeUtext/html; charset="us-ascii"tq(UContent-Transfer-EncodingUquoted-printabletq(U Message-IDU,<0.0.0.50.1D009E3FC7C53D8.1BEA23@phnomus.us>qtq(UDateUWed, 26 Nov 2014 17:51:26 -0800tqeU_payloadqTÇ Never Diet Again

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- ******************************* All described in this letter is represented as an ad. SIMPLE-1NF0 P0.B0X./4120 N.49824 ------------ P0RT1AND_0REG0N 97208 \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ - Stop receiving these messages: http://phnomus.us/Z0wobaeiJ8xBMOXbKqW4TypsBVJDLyKDz8P6TPMW7f5nohXzfhJ237DDMkubFm/X96xLTGL3nND3IaWd/hB++rwllTWnpibPLy3bhv4Fk0w0BaH+7comsLqpcTAcOpy89MkOFhm1sngwbFlcNZ96 -- m pizen ag'in 'em sence then," retorted the Pawnee-hater vehemently. "If I tuk scalps I could show ye somethin'. They've paid a lot fer what they stole that time." From another group came the mention of a name which took Tom's instant attention. "I hears Ol' Jim Bridger's quit tradin' in furs as a reg'lar thing," said the voice. "They say he's gone in fer tinkerin' an' outfittin' up nigh Teton Pass. Got a fust rate post too, they say." "Tinkerin' what?" demanded a listener. "What kin he outfit 'way up thar?" "Emigrants!" snorted the first speaker. "Figgers on sellin' 'em supplies an' sich, an' repairin' fer 'em at his smithy. I shore reckon they'll need him a hull lot more'n he'll need them. That's a long haul fer wagons, tenderfeet's 'spacially--Independence ter th' Divide--'though it ain't what it was when Hunt an' Crooks went out thirty year ago." "No, 'tain't," replied a third man. "An' it's a lucky thing fer th' tenderfeet that Nat Wyeth went an' built Fort Hall whar he did, even if 'twas fer th' Hudson Bay. I'm tellin' ye these hyar emigrants would be stayin' ter home from Oregon an' Californy if 'twarn't fer what us trappers has did fer th' country. Thar ain't nary a trail that we didn't locate fer 'em." The first man nodded. "Not mentionin' th' Injuns afore us, we found thar roads, passes, an' drinkin' water fer 'em; an' now thar flockin' in ter spile our business. One thing, though, thar goin' straight acrost, most on 'em. It could be a hull lot worse." While Tom's ears caught bits of the conversation roundabout his eyes paid attention to the gambling table and on two occasions he half arose from his chair to object profanely to the way Stevens played; but each time he was not quite sure. On the third occasion one of the trappers glanced at him, smiled grimly, and nodded at the hard-pressed gambler. "Th' fur trade ain't th' only skin game, young feller," he softly said. "Ol' man a friend o' yourn?" Tom nodded and watched more closely, and a moment later he stiffened again. "Why, h--l!" growled the trapper, sympathizing with one of his own calling. "Go fur him, young feller, an' chuck him inter th' river! I'll hold off his pardner fer ye!" An older trapper sauntered over and seated himself at Tom's side. "Been watchin' them fer quite a spell," he said in a low voice. "Ain't that ol' feller St Louis Joe?" Tom shrugged his shoulders, and saw a great light. Who hadn't heard of St. Louis Joe? His new friend's love of gambling, and his success against Stevens and his crowd would be accounted for if the trapper was right. He glanced at the speaker and replied: "Don't know. I never saw him till I crossed th' levee at St. Louis jest afore we sailed." "Looks a heap like him, anyhow," muttered the newcomer. "Fair an' squar, _he_ war. I seen him play when I war goin' down to N U_charsetqNUepilogueqNU _default_typeqU text/plainqU _unixfromqU?From HealthierChoicesToday@phnomus.us Thu Nov 27 02:50:06 2014Udefectsq]U __version__q(KKKtqUpreambleq Nub.