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Updated: May 25, 2025
And the manner of the statement, rather than the words themselves, was very uncomplimentary to Miss Teresa Arriega Temple. And, as a mere matter of fact and old man Packard knew it well enough down in his soul he would have guessed nothing of the sort.
Since when was a tree considered as land, Miss Teresa Arriega Temple?" "Think that's funny?" she scoffed. "And besides," he continued, "the tree is on Packard property. See that old pine stump over yonder? And that big rock there? Those things mark the boundary-line and you'll notice we're on my side!" Terry's temper flamed higher in her eyes, flashed hotter in her cheeks. "We are not!
"It's Blenham on the front seat with a bandage around his head!" she cried. "He's hurt! And dad, that man back there is Steve Packard! And he's driving that crowd off his ranch, as sure as you are Jim Temple and I'm Teresa Arriega Temple!" Temple started. "What's that?" he demanded with a genuine show of interest. Together they stared down the road. On came the wagon and the rider behind it.
That I, Teresa Arriega Temple, would for an instant consider a Packard, the son and the grandson of a Packard, as worthy of shining my boots for me? Why, I spit upon the two of you!" She whirled and was gone into the house. Steve instead of watching her going kept his eyes hard upon his grandfather's face.
"It was, about the time the big wall was building in China. Where've you been the last couple of hundred years? It's the Temple place now." "Then you're Miss Temple?" "Teresa Arriega for my mother, Temple for my dad," she told him in the quick, bright way which already he found characteristic of her. "Terry for myself, if you say it quick."
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