United States or Tonga ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The hobby-horse was hidden under a drapery of velvet and lace and silk. Still the chest held a number of old party gowns that had never been cut down to fit their childish revels. As Lloyd shook them out, thinking of the gay scenes they had been a part of, the picture of Agnes Waring in her worn jacket and shabby shoes flashed across her mind, followed by Mrs.
He looked down at her slender, graceful figure, and a great tremor passed over him. The next instant she felt him close at her side. "You must not do that," he said. "Elsie, listen! Some one has been telling falsehoods. Mrs. Verdon is nothing more to me than a pleasant acquaintance. I am grateful to her for taking care of Jamie; but you know I always feel that Waring meant to leave the boy to me.
She went straight to Dot, shook hands with her and her brother, and stood chatting for a few seconds. Nap remained close behind her, and after a little she turned to Include him in the group. "Have you ever met this Mr. Errol. Dot? Mr. Errol Miss Waring!" Dot bowed again with a scarlet countenance, but the next instant a friendly inspiration delivered her from the moment's awkwardness.
"Our client," he contended, "was NOT the man against whom the warrant in this case had been duly issued; he was NOT the man named Guy Waring; he was NOT the man whom the witnesses deposed to having seen at Mambury; he was NOT the man who had loitered with evil intent around the skirts of Dartmoor; in short," the great Q.C. observed, with demonstrative eye-glass, "it was a very clear case of mistaken identity.
When the horse had finished eating the grain, Waring picketed him in a fresh spot and climbed back to the ledge, where he sat watching the western wall of the cañon, occasionally glancing up as some dim star burned through the deepening dusk and bloomed to a silvery maturity.
The rector turned again and looked at his host, who, was gazing at the picture thoughtfully. "I ought to have remembered," he said. "I have seen your name in the church records, sir, and I have heard Mr. Waring speak of you." "My dear Mr. Hodder, there is no reason why you should have known me. A great many years have passed since I was a parishioner of St. John's a great many years."
"Si, señor. I am sorry for Ramon. This thing was not of his doing. He is but a boy " Waring touched the other's arm. "There will be no trouble, Juan. Only keep better track of your horses while I ride this part of the country." "But señor " "I've had business with you before. Two of your cayuses are astray down the Agua Fria. One of them is dragging a maguey lead-rope." "Señor, it is impossible!"
People called er Waring, is it?" "Bairling," said I. "Bairling. That's it. Let's see. I'm afraid it's some miles from Fladstadt." "Twenty, I'm told." "About that." "And this is how far?" "From Fladstadt? About twenty-three." I groaned. "Forty-three miles to go, and a flat tire," I said. "Now far's the next village?" "Why?" "I want to get another wheel on."
When Waring came down she did not introduce him to the boarders, a fact that sheriff Buck Hardy, who dined at the hotel, noted with some interest. The men ate hastily, rose, and departed, leaving Hardy and Waring, who called for a second cup of coffee and rolled a cigarette while waiting. Hardy had seen the stranger ride into town on the big buckskin. The horse bore a Mexican brand.
Nogales and the Arizona line were still a long ride ahead. Slowly the desert sun drew overhead and swept the scant shadows from the brush-walled enclosure. Waring slept. Finally the big buckskin became restless, circling his picket and lifting his head to peer over the brush.
Word Of The Day