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Updated: May 29, 2025
Helen's dignity might never have been! A burning, choking rush of blood was her first acquaintance with the terrible passion of anger that was her inheritance from the Auchinclosses. She who had resolved never to lay herself open to indignity now fought like a tigress. The Mexicans, jabbering in their excitement, had all they could do, until they lifted her bodily from the porch.
"Her name's Helen Rayner," replied Beasley, eagerly. "She's twenty years old. All of them Auchinclosses was handsome an' they say she's the handsomest." "A-huh!... Beasley, this 's sure a bigger deal an' one I ain't fancyin'.... But I never doubted your word.... Come on an' talk out. What's in it for me?" "Don't let any one in on this. You two can hold up the stage.
I declare, Milt, you live so in the woods you're like a boy of ten an' then sometimes as old as the hills.... There's no young man to compare with you, hereabouts. An' this girl she'll have all the spunk of the Auchinclosses." "Then maybe she'd not be such a catch, after all," replied Dale. "Wal, you've no cause to love them, that's sure. But, Milt, the Auchincloss women are always good wives."
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