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The girl at Bronson's side gave something between a cry and a shriek that turned him sick for an instant, and that made the office-boy drop his head between his shoulders as though some one had struck at him from above. Even the horses shied with sudden panic towards one another, and the driver pulled them in with an oath of consternation, and threw himself forward to look beneath their hoofs.
And presently he presented himself at Bronson's cabin, his face glowing, his flannel shirt neatly brushed, and a dark-blue silk bandanna knotted gracefully at his throat. "This is the princess," said Bronson, gesturing toward his daughter. "And here is the feast." "And it was a piano," continued Bronson as they sat down. "Really? 'Way up here?" "My daughter plays a little," explained Bronson.
One dollar is exactly like another there are many in the world: but no Joe is like my Joe, nor can there be any others in the world to take his place. Don't you see, Joe? Don't you understand?" Mr. Bronson's voice broke slightly, and the next instant Joe was sobbing as though his heart would break.
Bronson laughed, and she scolded him with her eyes. Just then Lorry appeared. Bronson stooped and kissed her. "And don't ride too far," he cautioned. Lorry drove the pack-animals toward Bronson's cabin. He dismounted to tighten the cinch on Chinook's saddle. The little cavalcade moved out across the mesa. Dorothy rode behind the pack-animals, who knew their work too well to need a lead-rope.
Sometimes his walks, guided by Mrs Bronson's daughter, "the best cicerone in the world," he said, were through the narrowest by-streets of the city, where he rejoiced in the discovery, or what he supposed to be discovery, of some neglected stone of Venice. Occasionally he examined curiously the monuments of the churches.
"You would! And why?" "I am a physical wreck and a mental one, too, I fear.... Helen, I've come home to die." "Daren!" she cried, poignantly. Then he told her in brief, brutal words of the wounds and ravages war had dealt him, and what Doctor Bronson's verdict had been. Lane felt shame in being so little as to want to shock and hurt her, if that were possible. "Oh, I'm sorry," she burst out.
"But the coat?" reminded Hedin, after an interval of several minutes. "I'm coming to that. Orcutt ain't human, but his wife is. When he found out I'd slipped out of his clutches an' swung all my business over to Bronson's bank he never by so much as a word or a look let on that he even noticed it.
"I'll have the Richard to-morrow," he said. "Bronson's going to bring her back and stay two or three days to put me on to the ropes. We'll get him to take us to Diablo." "Count me in on that too," exclaimed Hawkins. "I've got it coming. Haven't had a breath of salt air since I've been here." The girl completed her list of the required gear as the telephone rang.
He was well on his way to Jason that morning before the others had arisen. He was back at the camp shortly after nine that night. As he passed Bronson's cabin he saw a light in the window. Mrs. Weston was talking with Dorothy. Lorry had hoped to catch a glimpse of Alice Weston. He had been hoping all that day that he would see her again before he left. Perhaps she was asleep.
In matters of discipline, faith, and practice there was no appeal from its decisions. Except the right to be protected in their orthodoxy the churches had no privileges which the Court did not confer, or could not take away." Bronson's Early Gov't. in Conn. p. 347, in N. H. Hist. Soc. Papers, vol. iii. Russell. In March, 1661, after duly considering the matter, the court allowed Mr.
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