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Updated: April 30, 2025
"I'll keep the notes safe up here, in my pocket, Wayland! I'll stay and give Sheriff Flood a hand at the hoist!" The Sheriff looked for directions to Brydges. "Let her go," ordered Brydges with a glance back over his shoulder towards the trail from Smelter City; and the winch creaked and groaned; and the bucket fell with a bump; then a steady drop to the first vein.
"He's extremely good-looking." "Oh, he's Mr. Hawkshaw's stepson, over at Combe Mary," Winnie answered with a nod. "Mr. Hawkshaw's the vicar there till Mamma's nephew is ready to take the living what they call a warming-pan. But Walter Brydges is Mrs. Hawkshaw's son by her first husband. Old Mr. Brydges was the squire of Combe Mary, and Walter's his only child. He's very well off.
Then, she saw who was with the Senator. Brydges sprang up waiting to return her recognition. She made no sign. She walked over where he was standing. The Senator had half risen from his desk. Was it the spirit of the ancestral Indian in her eyes; or of the Man with the Iron Hand? Brydges' oily gloss went to tallow under her look.
The opposition paper opined "He would hardly have retained the confidence of the Valley had he lived;" and the "Independent" our old friend, the news editor paid him the straight out from the shoulder compliment, "that he had died as he had lived, an uncompromising game fighter to the end." What became of Mr. Bat Brydges? Bless you, my friend, do you need to ask?
Williams to the front row of chairs where the news editor and Wayland and Brydges and the youth from Washington were already seated, she heard a man's voice say, "They've gone too far this time, by Jingo! It will take more than wind-jamming to win next fall's elections with this against them." "You bet there's an awakening," returned another voice.
Sooner we accept the challenge and put 'em to bed for good, the better! Money talks, Brydges!" "But that's just it, Senator! Money does talk; and some body's money has talked when the Independent sold out to Joe!" "Fool and his money soon parted, Brydges! Only, in this case, I've a suspicion it's a Her! Never fear a known enemy, Brydges! It's the unknown factors you want to look out for!
When Moyese wants to deal with that gang, he can go it alone." "Brydges," said Wayland, "you have given me some frank advice. I'm going to reciprocate. You know what is going on out here. You know why that Arizona gang comes up here. You know why we can't touch them they are off the Range of the Forest.
If Brydges had not been so absorbed in the jocularity of his own sensations, he would have observed that his chief remained singularly silent. "Oh, I don't suppose he's there all this time."
Brydges did some hard thinking and let the Ranger do the heaping. "Sort of razzle-dazzler, MacDonald's daughter; she's a winner; but you can't get at her! Sort of feel when she's talking to you as if her other self was 'way down East. Wonder what the old curmudgeon brought her back here for? If she'd let down her high airs a peg, she'd have every fellow in the Valley on a string.
I found them together at a house in Brydges Street, Drury Lane, and as they were luckily unengaged, they set out with me in a hackney-coach without hesitation, after I had related the circumstances of the affair, which flattered then with hopes of seeing a bailiff trounced; for there is an antipathy as natural between women of that class and bailiffs, as that subsisting between mice and cats.
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