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Updated: May 19, 2025
Yes, sir! Water does get stringy sometimes on long v'y'ges. It useter on whalin' cruises get all stringy and bad; but after she'd worked clear she'd be fit to drink again. "But this time in the Mary Bedloe it was something mysterious happened to the drinking water. Made the hull crew sick. Cap'n Jim Braman was master. He was a good navigator, but an awful profane man.
He opened the door, paused on the threshold and smiled at her with straight, hard lips. "Braman was " "Go!" she cried in a frenzy of anxiety; "go!" He laughed mockingly, and looked at her intently. "I suppose I will never understand women. You are my enemy, and yet you give me food and drink and are eager to have me escape your accomplice. Don't you know that this record will ruin him?"
And some of the things that Braman had already heard through the medium of the loose board were really interesting, not to say instructive, to him. He was ten minutes late in keeping his appointment. He might have been even later without being in danger of receiving the censure he deserved.
A certain crafty gleam of his eyes, perhaps, strangely blended with a bold intentness as he had looked at her; a too effusive manner; a smoothly ingratiating smile these evidences of character somehow made her link him with schemes and plots. She did not reflect long over Braman.
Well, you're in good company anything that you don't know about skinning people Braman will tell you. But I'm letting you know this: The railroad company's option on my land expired last night, and it won't be renewed. If it's fight you're looking for, I'll do my best to accommodate you."
They filled with a hard, sinister light. "No," he said; "it isn't regular." He took the check from Braman and deliberately tore it into small pieces, scattering them on the floor at his feet. He smiled vindictively, settling back into his chair. "'Brand' Trevison, eh?" he said. "Well, Mr. Trevison, the railroad company isn't ready to close with you."
Leaving the light burning, she slipped out into the hall and called to the waiter who had served her and Braman. By rewarding him generously she procured a horse, and a few minutes later she emerged from the building by a rear door, mounting the animal and sending it clattering out into the night.
But there was none of that activity that might have been expected from the quantity of material on hand; it seemed that the owners were waiting, delaying in anticipation of some force that would give them encouragement. They were reluctant to risk their money in erecting buildings on the strength of mere rumor. But they had come, hoping. Corrigan grinned at Braman.
"Here's a telegram for you." Braman took the telegram, scanning it, while the agent talked on, ramblingly. A sickly smile came over Braman's face when he finished reading, and then he listened to the agent: "I got a wire a little after midnight, asking me if that man, Corrigan, was still in Manti.
Moving away from the cot, he stumbled against something soft and yielding, and his pistol flashed into his hand in sinister preparation, for he knew from the feel of the soft object that it was a body, and he suspected that it was Braman, stalking him. He thought that until he remembered the broken lock, on the door, and then the significance of it burst upon him.
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