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Updated: June 2, 2025
But Sanderson lightened their disappointment by entrusting them with a new responsibility. "You fellows go back to the Double A an' hang around," he told them. "I don't care whether you do a lick of work or not. Stick close to the house an' keep an eye on Mary Bransford. If Dale, or any of his gang, come nosin' around, bore them, plenty!
Miss Bransford looked around appealingly; first at the pale, anemic little man with big eyes, who shifted his feet and looked uncomfortable; then her gaze went to Sanderson who, resting his left elbow on the pommel of the saddle, was watching her with squinting, quizzical eyes. There was an appeal in Miss Bransford's glance that made the blood leap to Sanderson's face.
"Mary Bransford wouldn't have any claim us havin' proof that she ain't a Bransford." "This fellow is no fool," declared Silverthorn. "Suppose he's wise to us, which he might be, and he has willed the property to the girl. Where would we be, not being able to prove that he isn't Will Bransford?" Dale meditated. Then he made a wry face. "That's right," he finally admitted.
He felt more decent now than he had felt since arriving at the Double A. If he could continue to prevent her from showing any affection for him visible, at least he would feel that the deception he was practising was less criminal. And when he went away, after settling the differences between Mary Bransford and Dale, he would have less to reproach himself with.
Sanderson could not escape the vigorous hug she gave him, but he did manage to evade her lips, and he went out of the house blushing and grinning. It was late in the afternoon when he got to Okar. Barney Owen was with him. Okar was flourishing as Mary Bransford said.
The first person to recognize him was the station agent at Bransford and his greeting was casual as he trundled the truck of empty milk cans to the far end of the platform. "Maybe these London tweeds are taboo in this central zone," he grumbled as he made his way up the shaded street to the business district.
Dale related what had happened on the street some time before, and Silverthorn's scowl deepened. "There are times when you don't seem to be able to think at all, Dale!" he declared. "After this, when you decide to do a thing, see me first or Maison. The last thing we want to happen right now is to have this fake Bransford killed." "Why?"
He wheeled swiftly, to see Mary Bransford emerging from the pantry, her hands covering her face in a vain endeavor to shut from sight the grisly horror she had confronted when she had reached her feet after recovering consciousness. Evidently she had no knowledge of what had occurred, for when at a sound Owen made and she uncovered her eyes, she saw Owen and instantly fainted.
"Look here," he said shortly; "I don't know what you two are goin' to palaver about, but whatever it is it's goin' to wait until what we set about to do is done." He looked at Sanderson. "Stranger, we ain't got no objections to you doin' all the lookin' you want to do. But keep your trap shut. Now, Miss Bransford," he continued, turning to the girl, "we'll get this trial over with.
Arrayed for a second inspection by Mary Bransford, Sanderson stood for a long time at the door of the lean-to, trying to screw up his courage to the point of confronting the girl. He succeeded finally, and walked slowly to the outside kitchen door, where he stood, looking in at Mary.
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