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Updated: June 28, 2025
"What do you know about Bulson?" "More than I really want to know about him," said Nan, ruefully. She related briefly what had happened a few days before on Pendragon Hill. "And when he called you a rascal, I oh! I was very, very angry! What did he mean, Papa Sherwood?" But her father postponed his explanation until later; and it was really from her mother that Nan heard the story of Mr.
And, now that his face was revealed, the chums recognized Mr. Ravell Bulson, the man who had spoken so harshly of Nan's father the day of the collision on Pendragon Hill. "Say! this is the expressman, I guess," pursued Mr. Bulson. "You're the man I really want to see. You'll see my name on that box 'R. Bulson, Owneyville, Illinois. That's me.
Sherwood awaiting Nan when she and her schoolmates arrived with Inez; from it Nan learned that her father would be in Chicago the next day, having been called to a final conference with the heads of the automobile corporation. "Mr. Bulson is so insistent, and is so ugly," the letter said, "that I fear your dear father will have to go to court.
Just before you came in the conductor levied on all my goods in transit and claimed the right to seize your case of milk for the benefit of the passengers. You'll have to send in your claim to our company, and it will get the value of the milk from the railroad people for you. That's all there is to it." "What?" roared Mr. Bulson, aghast at these words.
"I'll get you into court where you'll have to talk." Mr. Sherwood kept right on with Nan and Bulson was left fuming and muttering on the platform. Bess had already been put into the family sleigh and was being whisked home.
She had long-since learned that family affairs were not to be discussed out of the family circle. It was bad enough, so she thought, to have Tillbury and Owneyville people discussing the accusation of Ravell Bulson, without telling all the trouble to her friends here in Chicago. Enough had been said on the previous evening, Nan thought, about the matter.
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