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Updated: June 7, 2025
And she seemed very much pleased with the look in Broderick's eyes, a look of blended surprise and irritation. "Thornton and her uncle are not just exactly friends," he retorted coolly. "If they was," she flung back at him, "I'd think a heap sight more of ol' Ben Pollard!" Mrs.
Valois is heavy-hearted when he learns of the victory of freedom at the polls. He would be glad of some broad question on which to base the coming war. His brow is grave, as he realizes the South must now bring on at moral disadvantage the conflict. The war will decide the fate of slavery. Broderick's untimely death and the crushing defeat of the elections are bad omens.
Again the sheriff's voice floated up to her, raised a little, rasping out what sounded like a protest. And Broderick's answer was another short laugh, full of contempt and followed by a few emphatic, crisp words which she did not catch. That ended the consultation.
He shook his head and, long after both of the riders had passed out of sight down the crooked street these two men looked after them wonderingly. At Pollard's gate the Kid dismounted stiffly. Now for the first time Thornton came up to him. "If you think Broderick's in there," he said sharply, "you'd better let me go ahead. You're in no shape, Bedloe...." "You go to hell," said Bedloe heavily.
Olivia was devoted to her Aunt Madge; they had a mutual admiration for each other's character, and her sister's child was dear to Mrs. Broderick's heart, and perhaps the saddest hours she ever spent now were passed in thinking over the young couple's future. "I was wrong," she would say to herself, with a painful contraction of the brow.
Broderick's was discharged before he had elevated it sufficiently, and his bullet struck the ground about six feet in front of Terry. Terry was surer and shot his antagonist through the lung. Terry, who acted throughout with cold-blooded indifference, watched his antagonist fall and remarked that the wound was not mortal, as he had struck two inches to the right. He then left the field.
He had therefore resolved to go himself, instead of sending any one else, to bring his supposed son to the farm. It is more easy to imagine than describe Mrs Broderick's state of anxiety. Was her long-lost boy to be restored to her? or were the anticipations she had formed to be fallacious?
These Vigilantes are business men; they've a business-like organization. Citizens are still enlisting ... seven thousand now, I understand." "Damn them!" said the lawyer, broodingly, "what d'ye think they'll be up to next?" "Don't damn them too much." Broderick's smile held a grim sort of humor. "They're going to break up a political organization it's taken me years to perfect.
"There's been a conspiracy against us by the rowdy element, but I think we've beaten them now." Broderick's brow clouded. "We need a better government; a more effective system of police, Sam," he said, striking his first against the table. "What we need," said Brannan, "is a citizens' society of public safety; a committee of vigilance. And, mark my word, we're going to have 'em.
His majestic voice rolled on, telling of Broderick's work, his character, devotion to the people. He assailed the practice of duelling, the bitter hatreds of a slave-impassioned South. His voice shook with emotion as he ended: "Thus, O brave heart! we bear thee to thy rest.
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