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This widder woman owned a right to graze up to two hundred head o' stock on Mr. McFarlane's range. There was no mention o' lease, nor nothin' to talk of payin' fer it. The right was in the deed of sale, clear an' unquestioned. You'll see it right there in them papers. Wal, I'm runnin' a hundred of stock, and the half section is under cultivation. Now, Mr.
It is an easy way of extorting money, to give out that one is a near relation of yours, and especially one of whom you have cause to be ashamed. Her story of a yearly allowance does not agree with Mr. McFarlane's impression either; but that may be policy not positive unfounded fabrication. The orthography of this letter is not good; but the expressions are more like vulgar English than Scotch.
It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of London. There is Mortimer's, the tobacconist; the little newspaper shop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriage-building depot. That carries us right on to the other block. And now, doctor, we've done our work, so it's time we had some play.
He realized perfectly that this return journey was of her arrangement, not McFarlane's, and while he was not resentful of her care, he was in doubt of the outcome. It hurried him into a further intimacy which might prove embarrassing. At the camp by the lake the Supervisor became sharply commanding. "Now let's throw these packs on lively.
McFarlane's grass which is the thing I came right here to yarn about when I got mixed up with that unnatural hell, which I've learned since was only set up to amuse the skitters. Kind o' makes me feel if I was to set fer my pictur' I'd sure come out a shipwreck at sea, or some other darn fool kind of unpleasantness." Jeff was forced to echo the laugh which Dug indulged in without restraint.
McFarlane's dinners." "Yes," agreed Nash with a reflective look in his eyes. "She's a mighty fine girl, and I join the boys in wishing her better luck than marrying Cliff Belden." "Is it settled that way?" asked Norcross. "Yes; the Supervisor warned us all, but even he never has any good words for Belden. He's a surly cuss, and violently opposed to the service.
I'm not fine enough for him, but I'm going to try to change my ways so he won't be ashamed of me." Mrs. McFarlane's face cleared. "He surely is a fine young fellow, and can be trusted to do the right thing. Well, we might as well go to bed. We can't settle anything till your father gets home," she said.
If he ever shows up I'll put him where he'll have all night to be sorry in." "When did this take place?" "Yesterday about two. Of course Wayland couldn't ride, he was so dizzy and kind o' confused, and so I went into camp right there at timber-line. Along about sunset Nash came riding up from this side, and insisted on staying to help me so I let him." Mrs. McFarlane's tense attitude relaxed.
It was the well-marked print of a thumb. "Look at that with your magnifying glass, Mr. Holmes." "Yes, I am doing so." "You are aware that no two thumb-marks are alike?" "I have heard something of the kind." "Well, then, will you please compare that print with this wax impression of young McFarlane's right thumb, taken by my orders this morning?"
"You're not at fault, I know that, but if you can stay on a little while and make it an ounce or two easier for her and for her mother, I wish you'd do it." Wayland extended his hand impulsively. "Of course I'll stay. I never really thought of leaving." In the grip of McFarlane's hand was something warm and tender. He rose.
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