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Updated: June 23, 2025
Yet they stirred him far less than might have been expected. Black, foul murder had been committed, and in a way that threw the entire blame on himself. He saw it all in a flash. It needed but the smallest intelligence to do so. There was no mind in Barnriff but would inevitably fix on his guilt even his friend Peter. How could it be otherwise? There was his knife. There were his handkerchiefs.
Then there was the flower of Barnriff propping up the bar like a row of daisies in a window box only they lacked the purity of that simple flower. He stepped at once to the centre of the room. "Boys," he said in a hoarse, rasping voice, "I'm in a hurry.
Nobody could have been more a part of the Barnriff community than Peter Blunt, and yet nobody could have been more apart from it. Peter did not even look up from his labors when his visitor flung himself into the vacant chair. He silently went on with his examination of first one fragment of quartz and then another. And the man in the chair watched him with moody, introspective eyes.
If signs and omens meant anything at all, Eve Marsham and Will Henderson were about to embark on a happy and prosperous married life. So said the women of Barnriff on the day fixed for the wedding. The feminine heart of Barnriff was a superstitious organ. It loved and hugged to itself its belief in forebodings and portents.
Some dirty, mean skunk has set out to ruin him for some reason unknown. There are mean folks," he went on, with his keen eyes fixed on Smallbones, "here in Barnriff. They're mean enough to do this if they only hated Jim enough. I'd hate to cast reflections, but I believe from the bottom of my heart that Smallbones, if he hated enough, would do such a trick.
You've seen it on the reef in the cutting, right here in Barnriff. It's yours when you've done this thing, but you won't be here to get it if you don't. Will you come?" "They won't won't hang me?" the boy whispered, in dreadful fear. The death party were quite near now. Peter heard them. He felt that they were nearly across the market-place. He glanced out of the window. Yes, there they were.
She looked as fresh and wholesome as any wild prairie flower with her rich coloring of almost tropical splendor. She was neatly dressed, more after town fashion than in the method of such places as Barnriff, and her expressed reason for thus differentiating from her fellow villagers was a matter of mild advertisement. She made her living as a dressmaker.
So he turned his horse's head toward Barnriff, and prepared himself to face the trouble that he knew would be awaiting him. It was a cheerless journey, harassed by thoughts and speculations that could be hardly considered illuminating. Curiously enough he had no thought of making a run for it to a district where he was still unknown. Why should he?
No doubt somewhere in the picture a man was skulking, but even in the light of matrimonial experience this was not sufficient to spoil the full enjoyment of those moments. The bridegroom arrived. Yes, he was certainly good-looking in his new suit from "down East." Dressed as he was he did not belong to Barnriff.
His announcement cost him more than he knew. But Eve showed not the least bit of astonishment. "I knew you would," she said. Then she added, as though following out a thought which had been hers for a long time, "You see there are some things nobody can put up with for long. Barnriff, for instance, when it turns against you." Jim nodded. Her understanding delighted him, and he went on more easily.
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