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"Reade," said the acting chief thickly, as they lifted him from the litter to his cot, "if I'm not better by morning you'll have to get word to the chief." "Yes, sir," assented Reade, placing a hand on Blaisdell's forehead. It felt hot and feverish. "May I ask, sir, if you verified any of the sights on Nineteen?" "I -I took some of 'em," replied the acting chief hesitatingly.
I'm ready now to make up for it," replied Jean, feelingly. "Wal, wal, shore thats fine-spoken, my boy.... Let's set down heah an' have a long talk. First off, what did Jim Blaisdell tell you?" Briefly Jean outlined the neighbor rancher's conversation. Then Jean recounted his experience with Colter and concluded with Blaisdell's reception of the sheepman's threat.
Hazelton replied only with a nod, then broke into a sprint for the spot where the saddle animals were tethered. Two minutes later Harry, though not a crack horseman, left camp at a gallop. In Blaisdell's tent matters dragged along. Ice was needed, but none was to be had. Cloths were wrung out in spring water and applied to the sick man's head.
Blaisdell's absence, to take charge of the office, to receive the reports of the different superintendents and foremen of the mines, and if necessary, to inspect the work at the mines yourself, occasionally, in order to see that our instructions are being carried out."
She said that she should move, of course, when she got through her mourning, but, until then she thought it more suitable for her to stay where she was. She had what she wanted to eat, now, however, and she did not do dressmaking any longer. She still did her own housework, in spite of Harriet Blaisdell's insistence that she get a maid.
Impatient and moody by turns, he paced or moped around the cabin, always looking out, sometimes toward Blaisdell's ranch, but mostly toward Grass Valley. It struck Jean as singular that neither Esther Isbel nor Mrs. Jacobs suggested a reburial of their husbands. The two bereaved women did not ask for assistance, but repaired to the pasture, and there spent several hours working over the graves.
"Here we are," said Jerry. He drew up at the bars that led into old Blaisdell's sugar-camp, and Marietta, not waiting for him, sprang out over the wheel. "You're as light as a feather," said he admiringly, but with no sense of wonder. They were still in that childhood land where everybody is agile for one long, bright day. "Light as a bun," returned Marietta flippantly.
"You stir a step to git the law on him an' I'll tell what I know. What did I find out about you? The money stole out o' the box after they had the raffle for the War, the deed under old lady Blaisdell's feather bed, because it wa'n't recorded an' it left you with the right an' title to that forty feet o' land. Five counts!" She held up her left hand and told off one finger after the other.
"Well, you fellows may joke as much as you please," said Mr. Blaisdell, a little testily, "I tell you the man is smart." "Confound it! I know he's smart; I tell you he's too damned smart for you!" responded Mr. Rivers, who had very little respect for Mr. Blaisdell's business ability, but found him a very convenient cat's-paw.
Both of you favor your mother. But you're an Isbel. Back in Texas there are men who never wear a glove on their right hands, an' shore I reckon if one of them met up with you sudden he'd think some graves had opened an' he'd go for his gun." Blaisdell's laugh pealed out with deep, pleasant roll.
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