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Brevoort, who seemed to have recovered his nerve, added, "I aim to light out jest as quick as you git back." Pete was so intent on his errand that he did not see Conductor Stokes, who stood in the doorway of the El Paso House, talking to a man who had a rowdy rolled under his arm, wore overalls, and carried a dinner-pail.
Fox was at once arrested. Messrs. Weatherhead and Brevoort were astounded when informed of the peril from which they had been rescued. Fox was carried back to Santa Fe and placed in jail. The merchants were entrusted to the care of fifteen men who could be relied upon. The rest of the gang were ordered immediately to leave the camp.
That he was nearly alone in his judgment may be ascribed to the difference of tastes. And it may be stated as a curious coincidence that most of the cowpunchers were blondes. Not a word had been heard from Douglass since his departure and he had actually passed out of the mind of Mrs. Brevoort altogether.
Of course Brevoort had paid, generously, magnificently, and without demur; but how had she benefited thereby? To the end only of being the leader of her social set, queen regnant of a symposium of sexless degenerates with whom she had not one mental or physical desire in common!
To Brevoort he wrote at the same time: "I have attempted no lofty theme, nor sought to look wise and learned, which appears to be very much the fashion among our American writers, at present. I have preferred addressing myself to the feeling and fancy of the reader, more than to his judgment.
In a letter written from Birmingham, England, March 15, 1816, to his dear friend Henry Brevoort, who was permitted more than perhaps any other person to see his secret heart, he alludes, with gratification, to the report of the engagement of James Paulding, and then says: "It is what we must all come to at last. I see you are hankering after it, and I confess I have done so for a long time past.
I'll put The Spider's name here in the corner. Say, do you know we're takin' a whole lot of trouble for a man that wouldn't lift a hand to keep us from bein' sent up?" And Brevoort weighed the package thoughtfully. "By rights we ought to hang onto this dough. We earned it." "I sure don't want any of it, Ed. I'm through with this game." "I reckon you're right.
I say, or !" She placed her hand resolutely on the bell, her determination indubitable. "It is the hour of my shame and you must know all. I had rather be your running mate Oh! you grand, lovable, vicious, merciless beast than be queen regnant in heaven. But that can never be. I am the wife of Anselm Brevoort and you are the betrothed husband of another woman.
They leaned back in their chairs and played with spoons and reflectively broke up matches and volubly sketched plans of controls, drawing on the table-cloth. Carl took the sophisticated atmosphere of the Brevoort quite for granted. Why shouldn't he be there!
<b>COMAN, CHARLOTTE B.</b> Bronze medal, California Mid-Winter Exposition, 1894. Member of New York Water-Color Club. Born in Waterville, N. Y. Pupil of J. R. Brevoort in America, of Harry Thompson and Émile Vernier in Paris. This artist has painted landscapes, and sent to the Philadelphia Exposition in 1876 "A French Village"; to the Paris Exposition, 1878, "Near Fontainebleau."
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