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Updated: June 7, 2025
It gave her a mischievous pleasure to evade his carefully laid conversational traps, and what little he learned came from Ma Briskow. Briefly, it amounted to this: Miss Good was what the elder woman called "home folks," but she had been schooled in the East. Moreover, she was in the oil business.
But all you have to do when stock don't sell is to raise the price. Oh, if you know how, it ain't hard to make an honest dollar in the oil business!" Mr. McWade smiled with conscious satisfaction. "I'm sure of it," Gray said, heartily. "There is so little competition." Ma Briskow always had been known as a woman without guile, but of late she had developed rare powers of dissimulation.
It would have been a ghastly surprise to the jeweler to learn how careless and how confiding his friend could be in an off moment; he would have swooned when Gray told about his coming trip to Ranger and actually produced the misspelled Briskow letter for the edification of his chance acquaintance.
He went straight to his hotel and, as soon as he could sufficiently control himself to do so, he telephoned Gus Briskow, telling him that he intended to leave town. Then he began mechanically to pack his bag. He moved like a man in a trance, for the blow had fallen so suddenly as to numb him; his only impulse was to escape, to hide himself from these people who, of a sudden, had become hateful.
He assured her that all would be well. All was not well, however. The next morning when Gus Briskow was about to leave the hotel as usual Professor Delamater having departed hurriedly the evening before with fully four minutes of his twenty to spare he was stopped by the manager, who requested him to give up his rooms.
I guess I've got enough education to do me; anyhow, I can write Ozark Briskow in the lower right-hand corner and that seems to get me by." "You wouldn't consent to go back or have a tutor, like Allie?" "Who, me?" Briskow laughed scornfully. "Um-m! Merely a suggestion. You are the architect of your own career." "I'm fed up on that kind of schoolin', Mr. Gray.
Ma Briskow, the fairy ladies danced upon the hearth when I was born. Do you know what that means?" "Ten thousand bar'ls a day, an' you buttlin' for three niggers!" gasped the head of the house. "I'm going out on to-night's train and see it come in if it does come in. I told Buddy to stop work; not to drop another tool until I arrived. 'Fatted for destruction. I like the sound of that.
The speaker laid a finger upon his lips; his eyes were dancing. He knocked sharply at the Briskow door and cried, "Baggage ready, ma'am?" There was a stir from within, the door was slowly opened by a bent, pathetic figure of grief. "Ma!" Gray cried, and he held out his arms.
"If he's crippled I'll get him that much easier," said Briskow, and at the purposeful expression upon his weather-beaten face Mrs. Ring uttered a faint bleat of terror. She pawed at him as he undertook to pass her. "Oh, my heavens! What are you going to do?" "Depends on what he said to Allie." The woman wrung her hands. "What people! What savages!
Gus Briskow looked up with a start to find his daughter standing over him, her face ablaze, her deep bosom heaving. He stared at her in frank amazement, doubting his senses. Never had Allegheny used toward him a word, a tone like this, never had he seen her look as she did at this moment.
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