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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Umm," responded Wiley, squinting his eyes down shrewdly, "how much would that come to, in all?" "Well, twenty-one thousand, eight hundred dollars, for what I received from Mrs. Huff; but of course well, he'd have to buy a little more of me in order to get positive control." "How much more?" asked Wiley, but Blount's crooked mouth pulled down in a crafty smile.
Nobody expected her to do it quite so soon; but it is said hereabout that my lord bishop and my lady had been drawing nigh to an understanding before the glum tidings of Sir Blount's taking of his own life reached her; and the account of this wicked deed was so sore afflicting to her mind, and made her poor heart so timid and low, that in charity to my lady her few friends agreed on urging her to let the bishop go on paying his court as before, notwithstanding she had not been a widow-woman near so long as was thought.
McVickar has ever turned loose on this side of the big mountains. It grinds, Evan, but it's the fact. Not one of the men you are after has ever taken your speeches seriously." Blount's head sank lower. "I'm smashed, Dick!" he groaned; "utterly and irretrievably disgraced and discredited in my native State! There isn't a man in the sage-brush hills who would believe me under oath, after this."
Following the lead of the "devil-doctors," who, stripped to the waist, and with their heads covered with the hideous masks used in their incantations, looked like demons newly arisen from the pit, the yelling swarm of natives at last reached the fence outside Blount's house; and Mr.
I'll tell you frankly that I tried to shove it over to you, neck and heels, at first. When that little notion failed, I pushed it along to Kittredge." Blount's eyebrows, which promised in time to be as portentous as the Honorable Senator's, met in a frown. "I'm going to find Gryson, dead or alive," he said. Gantry looked up quickly. "Which means that you know what has become of him?"
"But there are some of the petrified bones left, too, I reckon. If the professor is a friend of yours, we'll get him a State permit to dig all he wants to." "Yes; Professor Anners is a friend of mine," was the younger Blount's half-absent rejoinder. But after the admission was made he qualified it. "Perhaps I ought to say that he is as much a friend as his daughter will permit him to be."
"I have nothing to say to that," answered the messenger; "my orders are directly from her Majesty, and concern this gentleman only." So saying, he walked away, followed by Walter, leaving the others behind, Blount's eyes almost starting from his head with the excess of his astonishment. At length he gave vent to it in an exclamation, "Who the good jere would have thought this!"
But I shouldn't like to be the man who got you into this, when he hears of it." "The man's safe enough," said Burgess, who had just up in time to hear Blount's last words. "No, he didn't escape that way," as Blount uttered an ejaculation of disgust. "He ran full tilt into me and when I tried to arrest him he drew his revolver on me. By good luck I got him first yes, Jo, he's dead."
The man's horse shied and threatened to bolt at sight of the storming car, but Patricia was looking straight ahead, and she made no movement to slacken speed. At the passing glimpse, Blount's mind went shuttling backward to the homecoming night in the Lost Hills, and he made sure he recognized the rider as Hathaway's morose henchman, the man Barto.
But he feared that Sir Blount's affairs had been in a seriously involved condition, which might necessitate many and unexpected changes. Time showed that Mr. Torkingham's surmises were correct.
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