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Updated: June 24, 2025


There's three of 'em and I'd do it for ary one as we say in Barnesville," in discreet correction of the colloquialism. Farquhar laughed a little, and put a hand on his shoulder as they moved away together. "I believe you would," he said; "perhaps that sort of thing is commoner in Barnesville than in Washington. I believe you would. Take me to see the claimants to-morrow."

When Tom spoke of Barnesville and Judge Rutherford, or Rupert of Delisleville and Matt, their conversation was guided in such manner that business details of the claim were part of what was said. It was Tom who realised this first and spoke of it. "We are talking of our own business as if it was the one subject on earth," he said. "That's the worst of people with a claim.

The Judge's homesick heart expanded within him. He shook hands with Tom with fervour. Rupert he greeted with friendly affection. Sheba on her entering the room with a plate of hot biscuits which she had been baking in Miss Burford's stove he almost kissed. "Now this is something like," he said. "I didn't know there was anything so like Barnesville in all Washington city.

I'll go and see Farquhar to-morrow." Farquhar was a cleverer man than the representative from Hamlin County. He had been returned several times by his constituents, and his life had been spent in localities more allied to effete civilization than was Barnesville.

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