词汇：likely

adj. 很可能的；合适的；有希望的

相关场景

“I never expected to see you right then,” Roscoe said. “Then there you were, pointing that gun.” “This is the main trail to Texas from Fort Smith,” July pointed out. “If I was looking for you that’s where I’d likely be.” “Yeah, but I didn’t know you was looking for me,” Roscoe said. “You don’t usually.” “Peach wrote and told me you was on the way,” July said. It was all the explanation he planned to offer until he could get Roscoe alone.
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Roscoe felt that he had never hated travel so much, not even when the pigs chased him. He was alone and likely either tobe drowned or shot before the night was over, or even well begun.
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July had looked perked up when he went in, but not when he came out. “It’s from Peach,” he said. He opened the letter and leaned against a hitch rail to try and make out Peach’s handwriting, which was rather hen-scratchy: Dear July—Ellie took off just after you did. My opinion is she won’t be back, and Charlie thinks the same.Roscoe’s a poor deputy, you ought to dock his wages over this. He didn’t even notice she was gone but I called it to his attention.Roscoe has started after you, to give you the news, but it is not likely he’ll find you—he is a man of weak abilities. I think the town is a sight better off without him.We think Ellie left on a whiskey boat, I guess she took leave of her senses. If that’s the case it would be a waste of time to go looking for her, Charlie thinks the same. You had better just go on and catch Jake Spoon, he deserves to pay the price.Your sister-in-law,Mary Johnson July had forgotten that Peach had a normal name like Mary before his brother gave her the nickname. Ben had found Peach in Little Rock and had even lived there two months in order to court her.
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“Are we leaving tonight?” Jake asked. “My horse is rode down.” “You ain’t leaving at all, Jake,” Augustus said. “At least not with me. I’m likely to have to travel hard, and I won’t have time for conversation.” Jake flared up again. “By God, I’ll go if I please,” he said. “She’s my woman.”Augustus ignored him. “I hate to leave just when you’re breaking in a new cook,” he said to Call. “I guess by the time I get back you’ll all be nibbling on spiders and centipedes.” Deets came over, looking worried. “You best watch close,” he said. “He gave me the slip—might give you the slip.” “Oh, you probably had your mind on grasshoppers or something, Deets,” Augustus said.
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“Maybe you oughta just cook some beef,” he suggested. “That’s what we’re mostly used to.” Po Campo chuckled again. “Worms make good butter, you know,” he said. “Slugs particularly.” Newt didn’t know what to say to that. It occurred to him that the Captain might have been a little hasty when he hired the cook. Po Campo was even friendlier than Bol, but still, a man who thought you could dip grasshoppers in molasses and use worms for butter was not likely to become popular with a finicky eater like Jasper Fant, who liked his beef straight.
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“Get down and walk with me, young man,” Po Campo said. “We might see some interesting things if we keep our eyes open. You can help me gather breakfast.” “You’ll likely see the Captain, if you don’t speed along a little faster,” Pea said. “The Captain don’t like to wait on breakfast.” Newt slid off the horse. It was a surprise to Pea and even a little bit of a surprise to himself, but he did it anyway. The wagon was only two or three hundred yards away. It wouldn’t take long to walk it, but it would postpone for a few minutes having to explain why he had lost his horse.
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“Yes, that’s your problem,” he said. “You don’t like buttermilk, or nothing else. You’re like a starving person whose stomach is shrunk up from not having any food. You’re shrunk up from not wanting nothing.” “I want to get to San Francisco,” Lorena said. “It’s cool, they say.” “You’d be better off if you could just enjoy a poke once in a while,” Augustus said, taking one of her hands in his and smoothing her fingers. “Life in San Francisco is still just life. If you want one thing too much it’s likely to be a disappointment. The healthy way is to learn to like the everyday things, like soft beds and buttermilk—and feisty gentlemen.” Lorena didn’t answer. She shut her eyes and let Gus hold her hand. She was afraid he would try more, without paying her or even playing cards, but he didn’t. It was a very still morning. Gus seemed content to hold her hand and sit quietly. She could hear the horses swishing their tails.
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“It’s dern likely,” Augustus said. “If I can find a squaw I like, I’m apt to marry her. The thing is, if I’m going to be treated like an Indian, I might as well act like one. I think we spent our best years fighting on the wrong side.” Call didn’t want to argue with nonsense like that. They were nearly to the edge of town, passing a few adobe hovels where the poorer Mexicans lived. In one of them a baby cried. Call was relieved to be leaving. With Gus on the prod, anything could happen. In the country, if he got mad and shot something, it would probably be a snake, not a rude bartender.
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“Well, you’re a goddamn liar, then,” Jake said. “Once a whore, always a whore. I won’t stand for it. Next time I’ll take a rope to you.” After he ate his bacon he saddled and rode off without another word—to go gamble, she supposed. Far from being scared, Lorena was relieved. Jake’s angers were light compared to some she had known, but it was no pleasure having him around when he was so hot. Probably he thought to scare her, riding off so quick and leaving her in camp, but she felt no fear at all. The herd and all the boys were only a mile away. No one would be likely to bother her with the cow camp so close.
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“Because the grave’s our destination,” Mr. Sedgwick said. “Those who hurry usually get to it quicker than those who take their time. Now, me, I travel, and when I’ll get anywhere is anybody’s guess. If you two hadn’t come along I’d have likely stood there in the river for another hour or two. The moving waters are ever a beautiful sight.” Mr. Sedgwick turned and walked down the riverbank without another word. From time to time he squatted to peer closely at the ground.“I reckon he’s spotted a bug,” Joe said.
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“Roscoe, you’re in the wrong trade,” Louisa said. “If you could just learn to handle an ax you might make a good farmer.” Roscoe didn’t know what to say to that. Nothing was less likely than that he would make a farmer.
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Roscoe doubted it too, but felt that he had to make a show of trying, at least. What was more likely was that if he rode around long enough July would eventually come and find him.
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It seemed to him the most likely explanation was bears, though he knew it wasn’t a foolproof explanation. If a bear had just walked in and got her, there would have been some blood on the floor. On the other hand, no bear had ever walked into Fort Smith and got a woman, though one had entered a cabin near Catfish Grove and carried off a baby.
在他看来，最有可能的解释是熊，尽管他知道这不是一个万无一失的解释。如果一只熊刚刚走进来抓住她，地板上肯定会有血迹。另一方面，从来没有一只熊走进史密斯堡抓过一个女人，尽管有一只熊进入了鲶鱼林附近的一间小屋，带走了一个婴儿。
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“Well, I guess we’ll see you when we see you, Roscoe,” July said. Then he turned his horse away from the river and the glowing sky, and he and little Joe were soon out of town.SIX DAYS LATER responsibility descended upon Roscoe Brown with a weight far beyond anything he had ever felt. As usual, it fell out of a clear blue sky—as fine a day as one could want, with the Arkansas River sparkling down at the end of the street. Roscoe, having no pressing duties, was sitting in front of the jail whittling, when he noticed Peach Johnson coming up the street with little Charlie Barnes at her side. Charlie was a banker, and the only man in town to wear a necktie every day. He was also the main deacon in the church, and, by common consent the man most likely to marry Peach if she ever remarried. Charlie was a widower, and richer by far than Benny had ever been. Nobody liked him, not even Peach, but she was too practical a woman to let that stop her if she took a notion to marry.
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“You better leave,” she said. “I don’t want Jake to catch you up here. He might shoot you.” “No!” Xavier exclaimed. “I will shoot him! I have a shotgun. I will shoot him when he comes back if you don’t let me in.” Lorena hardly knew what to think. It was crazy behavior. Xavier didn’t seem to want to budge from the stairs. He did own a shotgun. It was not likely Jake would let someone as pitiful as Xavier shoot him, but then if he shot Xavier, that would be almost as bad. He already had his Arkansas trouble from shooting someone. They might not get to leave if there was a shooting, and Xavier looked desperate enough to do anything.
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Jake took pains to teach Lorena a few things about card playing that she didn’t know. She came to wonder how Jasper and Bert and Needle Nelson got by on so little sleep, for the Captain worked them hard all day and the games went on half the night. The only cowboy likely to pull a sour face if she sat in was Dish Boggett, who wouldn’t get over being in love with her. It amused her that he sat there looking so solemn, with his big mustache. Jake did not even seem to notice that the man was in love with her. She was tempted to tease Jake a little, but he had told her plain out he was a jealous
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“I hope you will,” Call said. “Them twelve young ones ought to have a good father. What are the horses doing back here so soon?” “Why, grazing, most likely,” Augustus said.
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“Now, Maggie, don’t be giving away my recipes,” Maude said. “Anyway, the Captain’s likely et possum before.” “At least it ain’t a goat,” Call said, trying to make conversation. It was an unfamiliar labor, since at his own table he mostly worked at avoiding it. But he knew women liked to talk to their guests, and he tried to fit into the custom.
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Now Jake Spoon had spoiled it all, and the only way Xavier could vent his annoyance was by winning money from Jasper Fant, most of which he would never collect.“Where’s Jake?” Lorie asked—a shock to Dish. His hopes, which had been soaring as he walked through the dark to the saloon, flopped down to boot level. For her to inquire about the man so shamelessly bespoke a depth of attachment that Dish could barely imagine. It was not likely she would ever inquire at all about him, even if he stepped out the door and vanished for a year.
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“Not unless he’s been to the bank, we can’t,” he said. “Xavier cleaned Dish out last night, and he ain’t active enough to make his fortune back in one day.” “Don’t mean he can’t take a hand,” Jasper said, giving Dish a friendly nod. “Xavier’s cleaned me out too and I’m still playing.” “We all got weaknesses,” Lippy observed. “Wanz’s is playing poker for credit. That’s why he can’t afford to pay his pianer player an honest wage,” Xavier endured these witticisms silently. He was in a worse mood than usual, and he knew why. Jake Spoon had come to town and promptly deprived him of a whore, an asset vital to an establishment such as his in an out-of-the-way place like Lonesome Dove. Many a traveler, who might not ordinarily come that far, would, because of Lorie. There was no woman like her on the border. She was not friendly, but because of her, men came and stayed to drink away the night. He would not be likely to get another such-whore: there were Mexican women as pretty, but few cowboys would ride the extra miles for a Mexican woman, those being plentiful in most parts of south Texas.
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She had been sitting at a table expecting Dish Boggett to come back with another two dollars he had borrowed somewhere. It was an expectation that brought her no pleasure. It was clear Dish expected something altogether different from what the two dollars would buy him. That was why, in general, she preferred older men to young ones. The older ones were more likely to be content with what they paid for; the young ones almost always got in love with her, and expected it to make a difference. It got so she never said a word to the young men, thinking that the less she said the less they would expect. Of course they went right on expecting, but at least it saved her having to talk. She could tell Dish Boggett was going to pester her as long as he could afford to, and when she heard boot heels and the jingle of spurs on the porch she assumed it was him, coming back for a second round.
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Gus vehemently denied that he would be a suitable mate for Mary Cole. “Why, no, Pea, it wouldn’t do,” he said. “I’ve done been wrung through the wringer of marriage twice. What a widow wants is someone fresh. It’s what all women want, widows or not. If a man’s got experience it’s bound to be that he got it with another woman, and that don’t never sit well. A forthright woman like Mary probably considers that she can give you all the experience you’re ever likely to need.” To Pea it was all just a troublesome puzzle. He could not remember how the subject had come up in the first place, since he had never said a word about wanting to marry. Whatever else it meant, it meant leaving the Captain, and Pea didn’t plan to do that. Of course, Mary didn’t live very far away, but the Captain always liked to have his men handy in case something came up sudden. There was no knowing what the Captain would think if he were to try and marry. One day he pointed out to Gus that he was far from being the only available man in Lonesome Dove. Xavier Wanz was available, not to mention Lippy. A number of the traveling men who passed through were surely unmarried. But when he raised the point, Gus just ignored him.
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“That’s all right, Call,” Augustus said. “We’ll make it up off the Irishmen. Maybe they got rich uncles—bank directors or railroad magnates or something. They’ll be so happy to see those boys alive again that they’ll likely make us partners.” Call ignored him, trying to think of some way to salvage the trip. Though he had always been a careful planner, life on the frontier had long ago convinced him of the fragility of plans. The truth was, most plans did fail, to one degree or another, for one reason or another. He had survived as a Ranger because he was quick to respond to what he had actually found, not because his planning was infallible.
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“You reckon they keep a dog?” Call asked—a dog was likely to bark at anything, and a smart vaquero would heed it and take immediate precautions.
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Augustus considered that an absurd precaution. “’I god,” he said. “The dern camp’s five miles away. We can likely slip past it without going clear around by Mexico City.” “It don’t hurt to give it room,” Call said. “We might scare some more cattle. I’ve known men who could hear the sound of running cattle a long way off.” “I couldn’t hear Jehovah’s trumpet from no five miles off,” Augustus said. “Anyway, we ain’t the only thing in this country that can spook cattle. A lobo wolf can spook them, or a lion.” “I didn’t ask for a speech,” Call said. “It’s foolish to take chances.” “Some might think it foolish to try and steal horses from the best-armed ranch in northern Mexico,” Augustus said.
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