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"Yes," answered young James, with the brevity with which he usually made responses to the loquacity of his sister. "Do you mean that you hit Mr. Goodloe, as well as broke the window?" demanded Nell in still more horror, as she came down two of the front steps. "He didn't mind," answered Charlotte.

Goodloe helped me to go away three months ago and and begin again, and he don't really believe that the parson enticed me back. The gang just put that in his head when he was drinking. He does think that Mr. Goodloe knows about it all and I'm afraid afraid that some time when he's drunk he'll try to make him tell and and there'll be murder, maybe double murder. I can't tell you anything.

"I'm glad you came over, Mr. Goodloe," I said with nice, cool friendliness in my voice. "Billy was just planning a glorious fox-trot for this evening and then suddenly remembered with dismay that you were to have your entertainment at the Club to-night. Couldn't we we make some sort of compromise?

Goodloe in a cheerful and calm voice, though I saw that his fingers still trembled on the steering wheel as he held back the enraged gray engine. I was still speechless and I saw that father was in the same condition. "You said I might go 'next time' when my Auntie Harriet didn't want me to go with you last Tuesday on account of my stomach from the raw potato Jimmy dared me to eat.

Then, at the climax of despairing helplessness he remembered that there was a telephone in the mine-owner's office a telephone that connected with Goodloe's station at Little Butte. Here was a last slender chance of getting a warning to Goodloe, and through him, by means of the railroad wire, to the superintendent's special.

How would you like to own him? a woman in the next box says to her. "'I'd love it, says Miss Goodloe, 'n' busts out cryin'. 'You'll think I'm an awful baby! she says to me. "'I don't mind them kind of tears, I says. "'Neither do I, she says, laughin', 'n' dabbin' at her face with a dinky little hankerchiff.

I commanded, packing down the rage in the dark corners of my inmost heart. "Nobody ever knew why Bishop Goodloe never came back after he married while on a mission from the Southern Methodist Conference to the Northern Methodist Conference.

"'Where's this farm at? I says. "'Over in Franklin County, says Peewee. 'I'm goin' over want to go 'long? "'You're on, I says. 'I'm not particular who travels with me any more. "We gets off the train next mawnin' at a little burg called Goodloe, 'n' there's three or four niggers with three or four ratty-lookin' ole rigs to drive hossmen out to the sale.

Then as it grasped the roof of the Last Chance and began twisting it with a roar that grew in volume every instant, Gregory Goodloe suddenly raised his hand and spoke in a perfectly calm voice that rang out above the groan of the tortured shanties of the Settlement which were crashing down against each other.

Just exactly a week before, at almost that exact hour, the Reverend Gregory Goodloe had refused the cup of tea I had stood holding for him in my hand for five minutes on the front porch of the Poplars, and I had taken a resolve that never would he again receive a food invitation from me. I didn't count Mammy's "snack" eaten on the Harpeth adventure.