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Updated: June 25, 2025
But I made up my mind when I was a mighty leetle gal that if ever I had a baby I'd call it sumthin' pretty. An' I done the right thing by all my children. "Now here's 'Rill," pursued Mrs. Scattergood, waxing communicative. "Her full name's Amarilla Amarilla Scattergood. Don't you think that's purty yourself, now?" Janice politely agreed. But she quickly swung the conversation back to Poketown.
This was preferably to be at the junction of the Amarilla and Chusco rivers, and that point lay just eighty-five miles to the north. Between Clarkeville and that spot there were no roads and, at this time of the year, perhaps, no water. With the best wagon and team they might be able to get, this trip over the desert would require not less than five days.
"S'pose you'd been jest a drudge for Hopewell, all these years, Amarilla Scattergood?" "I might not have been a drudge," said Miss 'Rill, softly, flushing over her needlework. "At least my life and his would have been different." "Ye don't know how lucky you be," snapped her mother. "And this is all the thanks I git for tellin' Hopewell Drugg that he'd brought his pigs to the wrong market."
Meanwhile Hopewell was saying to Janice: "Miss Janice, how do you come here? I know Amarilla expected you. Isn't it late?" "Mr. Drugg," said the girl steadily, "we brought you here to be treated by Mr. Massey Mr. Bowman and I. I do not suppose you remember our getting you out of the Lake View Inn?" "Getting me out of the Inn?" he gasped flushing. "Yes. You did not know what you were doing.
We'll have lunch at the Amarilla Club though I belong also to the Anglo-American mining engineers and business men, don't you know and to the Mirliflores as well, a new club English, French, Italians, all sorts lively young fellows mostly, who wanted to pay a compliment to an old resident, sir. But we'll lunch at the Amarilla. Interest you, I fancy. Real thing of the country.
All the latter part of the afternoon an animated discussion went on in the big rooms of the Amarilla Club. Even those members posted at the windows with rifles and carbines to guard the end of the street in case of an offensive return of the populace shouted their opinions and arguments over their shoulders.
There are lots of Italians settled here on the railway lands, dismissed navvies, mechanics, and so on, all along the trunk line. There are whole villages of Italians on the Campo. And the natives, too, are being drawn into these ways . . . American bar? Yes. And over there you can see another. New Yorkers mostly frequent that one Here we are at the Amarilla.
If you will start a little east of north and locate the Indian village of Toliatchi, twenty miles away, you will be on the Arroyo Chusco. Although the bed of this stream may be dry it can be traced northward sixty-five miles, where it unites with the Amarilla, eighty-five miles from Clarkeville.
The feeling of compassion for those men, struck with a strange impotence in the toils of moral degradation, did not induce him to make a sign. He suffered from his fellowship in evil with them too much. He crossed the Plaza unmolested. The Amarilla Club was full of festive ragamuffins.
In the morning after the work was done Martha always did some of the light house duties they would watch with never-flagging interest the great herds of cattle as they were driven on their way for shipment from Amarilla, and gossip as girls do.
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