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Updated: June 2, 2025
At any rate, I don't want any hanging over a few cattle. I want you to let Ben Nyland go." Dale wheeled and faced Miss Bransford. His face reddened angrily, but he managed to smile. "It's too late, Miss Bransford. The evidence is all in. There's got to be rules to govern such cases as this. Because you own the steers is no sign you've got a right to defeat the aims of justice.
Henceforth, when we heard the chattering boys coming through the woods, if we looked out promptly enough, we would see Bob relieving some one of his doubles of pail or mail-bag; and by the time he reached the houseboat, he would be in full possession of all means of identification. "Would you like to go to meet the ladies and gentlemen on the walls?" Mrs. Bransford asked one day at Shirley.
In front of the counter, however, it's a question of diplomacy and good judgment. Shirley Wells is an asset. His business is in front of the counter, greeting the trade and broadening the field for service. A bank must have assets if it is to make loans." The Wells National Bank, with its tidy and growing millions of assets, is functioning at 201 North Oak Street, Bransford, U.S.A.
And I'll kill any man that tries to give Miss Bransford the worst of it. "You've got a fight on your hands. I know Dale and his gang, and they'll make things mighty interesting for you and Miss Bransford. But I'll help you, if you say the word. I'm not much for looks as you can see but I can sling a gun with any man I've ever met.
I've cussed myself for doin' it, but I couldn't help it. An' because I couldn't hate you, I tried my best to do things that would make you hate me. "I've deviled Mary Bransford because I thought it would stir you up. I don't care anything for her it's Peggy Nyland that I like. Mebbe I'd have done the square thing to her if I'd been let alone an' if she'd have liked me. Peggy's better, ain't she?
"Who told you to get Bransford?" demanded Sanderson. "A guy named Dale," whispered Colton. Sanderson turned swiftly. He saw Dale still standing in the doorway. Dale was grinning coldly, and Sanderson knew he suspected what had been whispered by Colton. But before Sanderson could move, Dale's voice was raised loudly and authoritatively: "Arrest that man quick!"
Dale was sitting in a big chair, smoking a cigar, one arm carelessly thrown over the back of the chair, his legs crossed, his attitude that of the master. Standing perhaps a dozen feet from him was Mary Bransford. The girl's eyes were wide with fright and astonishment, disbelief, incredulity and several other emotions that Sanderson could not analyze. He did not try.
Sanderson leaned closer to the man and spoke sharply to him. "Look here, Dale; you were at the Double A. What has become of Mary Bransford?" "She went away with Barney Owen to Okar. Nobody hurt her," he said, as he saw Sanderson's eyes glow. "She's all right she's with her brother."
Sunday morning, at the Fourth Avenue Church, he was cordially greeted by many, some of whom he had ridiculed at a former session. Monday, the full day was spent in the office of his friend Townsend. Tuesday, Ralph Gaynor of Springfield arrived in Bransford in response to Davy's telegram, wherein it was suggested that "one carfare was cheaper than two."
There's just one thing will save your miserable hide. You got that seven thousand on you?" Dale hesitated, then nodded. Sanderson spoke to Mary Bransford without removing his gaze from Dale: "Get pen, ink, an' paper." The girl moved quickly into another room, returning almost instantly with the articles requested. "Sit down an' write what I tell you to," directed Sanderson.
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