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Parr, indicating a marble edifice with countless windows. "He's one of your vestrymen, you know. Ferguson's Department Store." The banker's eyes twinkled a little for the first time. "You'll probably find it convenient. Most people do. Clever business man, Ferguson." But the rector was finding difficulty in tabulating his impressions.
"It wasn't Ben Radford," continued Ferguson, answering the look. "You'd be surprised if I told you. But I ain't tellin' now. I'm waitin' to see if someone else does. But I'm tellin' you this: They got Rope Jones." Stafford's face reddened with anger. "They got Rope, you say?" he demanded. "Why, where damn them!" "Back of the ridge about fifteen miles up the crick," returned Ferguson.
Chew said, "Let us defeat these Tories at the card-table, Gainor." "With all my heart," said my aunt, glad of this turn in the talk. "Come and give me luck, Hugh," said Mrs. Ferguson. "What a big fellow you are! Your aunt must find you ruffles soon, and a steenkirk."
Richie, following him to the foot of the stairs, stood there gripping the newel-post. "They ain't here," Harris announced from the top landing. Mrs. Richie sank down on the lowest step. "Harris!" some one called peremptorily, and she turned to see Robert Ferguson coming out of the dining-room: "Oh, you're here, Mrs. Richie? I suppose you are on David's track. I thought Harris might have some clue.
"Then blessings all. Go, children of my care, To practice now, from theory repair." When William Ferguson left the presence of his sister, he hastened with his sable attendant to overtake his brother; whom he joined a few miles on the road.
I fully intended to tell you that we did not wish to buy any silks to-day, and I also intended to tell you that we yearned to go immediately to the palace of the Louvre, but enjoying the happiness of seeing you devour four breakfasts this morning has so filled me with pleasurable emotions that I neglect the commonest interests of the time. However, we will proceed now to the Louvre, Ferguson."
"You are right," said Ferguson; "but there are generally compensations. I was taking account of stock, and I estimate that I have from sixteen to eighteen hundred dollars' worth of gold-dust." "I have nearly as much," said Tom. "My pile won't vary far from Tom's," said Russell. "That is a pretty good showing for five months, my friend," said the Scotchman.
"Something saved from the wreck," he repeated slowly. The manager's grave eyes were fixed on his. "I'm not blaming you, Ferguson," said the colonel. "It was a plot to ruin me, and it succeeded." "What do you think happened?" asked the troubled Ferguson. "The second package was a box filled with a very strong acid," said the colonel.
Now the country editor had a great respect for the city editor, who was indeed known by reputation throughout New England as a man of influence and ability, and he felt disposed to accede to any request of his. So he said pleasantly, "Of course, Harry, we shall miss you, but if Mr. Ferguson is disposed to do a little additional work, we will get along till Monday. What do you say, Mr. Ferguson?"
Robert Ferguson rose, and stood with his hands behind him, looking down at her. His hair, in a stiff brush above his forehead, was quite gray, but his face in its unwonted emotion seemed quivering with youth. He knocked off his glasses irritably. "I never know how to say things," he said, in a low voice; "but please don't go." Mrs. Richie stared at him in amazement.
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