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Humphrey Goode must pull considerable weight around the courthouse, Rand surmised. "But you realize, that revolver's still loaded...." "Oh, that's not your worry. I'll draw the charges, or, better, fire them out. It stood one shot, it can stand the other five." "Well, would you mind if I called Mr. Goode on the phone?" Rand did, decidedly. However, he shook his head negligently.
The visitor from the Three-Notched Road looked at him now with her keen old eyes and laid her mittened hand upon his arm. "Be a good man, Lewis Rand! Be a great one if you will, but be good. That comes first." Rand touched her withered hand with his lips. "It is women who are good. And you'll not come to town again until nearly Christmas! I'll ride over before then, and I'll settle Carfax for you.
Have you been dreaming of Lewis Rand as the aider and abetter of Colonel Burr's designs, whatever they may be! as a conspirator with him against the peace of the country, against Virginia, against the Republic? You have, you have, I read it in your face! Well, you are wrong. Oh, I will tell you the clean truth!
The wind sank, the air grew colder; near and far there gathered a feeling of the north, a sense of loneliness and untrodden space. The whippoorwill called again. Rand shuddered. "Our last night it is our last night. Look! a star shot over the Three-Notched Road." Jacqueline slipped from his clasp and stood upright, with her hands over her ears. "Come indoors come indoors!
Ian had called him, "my South African nabob," in tribute to the millions he had made with Cecil Rhodes and others at Kimberley and on the Rand.
But to the men of the Imperial Light Horse, recruited as they were from among the British refugees of the Rand, there was added a burning sense of injustice, and in many cases a bitter hatred against the men whose rule had weighed so heavily upon them.
"You seem to be pretty well up in their slang," commented Rand. "Oh, that's part of the newspaper business," was Jack's response. By this time they had come to the building in which Judge Taylor had his office, which was on one of the main street corners of the town. A little description of the building is necessary here to make the situation clear.
"Did Arnold Rivers actually tell you he'd pay twenty-five thousand dollars for the collection?" he asked. "I can't believe that he'd raise his own offer like that." "He didn't raise his offer; I threw it out and told him to make one that could be taken seriously." Rand repeated, as closely as he could, his conversation with the arms-dealer.
More than that, he believed he had acquired some understanding of the temptations that assailed his brother, and the poor little vanities of the "Marysville Pet" were transformed into the blandishments of a Circe. Rand, who would have succumbed to a wicked, superior woman, believed he was a saint in withstanding the foolish weakness of a simple one. He did not resume his work that day.
Both of you had a motive in this Mill-Pack merger that couldn't have been negotiated while Fleming lived. One or the other of you may be guilty; on the other hand, both of you may be innocent." "Then who...?" Varcek had evidently bet his roll on Dunmore. "There is no one else who could have done it." "The garage doors were open, if I recall," Rand pointed out.
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