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Updated: May 31, 2025
Jim tossed around uneasily, winning snatches of sleep, groaning, talking, abasing himself. "Oh, Belle!" he moaned aloud. "Will you ever look at me again? Oh, God! And me a preacher." Cedar Mountain was not so big but that every one knew everybody else's business; and Mary Bylow understood when she heard the name "Belle." But she didn't know just what to do. After an hour she again heard him. "Oh!
Jebb, Charlie Bylow came rather shyly forward with his wife. "Mr. Hartigan, I've got a good team now; in case there is any moving to do, I'd like to do it for you." And then as if he thought Jim might not understand he said: "We owe a lot to you and we'd like a chance to pay it back." There was one old acquaintance that did not turn up. That was Lou-Jane Hoomer.
Ruth had frequent happy laughs, observing Isabel's gift for making Leonard talk. It gave her a new joy in both of them to have the lovely hostess draw him out, out, out, on every matter in the wide arena to which he so vitally belonged; eliciting a flow of speech so animated that only afterward did one notice how dumb as any tree on Bylow Hill he had been in regard to himself.
Hartigan, I understand that you went to the Bylow Corner last Saturday night to prevent a whiskey spree, as we know you have done before; that in some way the fumes of the liquor entered your head and so overpowered you that you were ill afterward; and that it was a painful surprise to you, as one well known to be a teetotaller. Isn't that so?"
"My dear," persisted Isabel, rebukingly, "I mean such friends as Ruth Byington." Mrs. Morris let go her little Southern laugh once more. "Don't you believe her, General don't you believe her. She means you every bit as much as she means Ruth. She means everybody on Bylow Hill." "I'm at the mercy of my interpreter," said Isabel.
It seemed that each new chapter of their lives must begin on that trail. They were in a new buckboard, the gift of Pa Boyd, driving Midnight in harness. That same morning Charlie Bylow had left for Deadwood with his team and wagon.
The doctor's buckboard came to the door, tied up, and the two occupants went in. "Where is your patient, Mrs. Bylow?" The woman pointed to the bedroom door, went to it, knocked, opened it, and finding the room empty said: "He was here a few minutes ago. I expect he is out to the stable." Belle sat down. The nervous strain of the past hours was telling on her.
His eye glowed, his breath came fast, his nostrils dilated and, as Belle looked, it seemed to her that her simple words had struck far deeper than she meant. "And the horses, which did you ride?" he queried. "How is Blazing Star? Are they going to race at Fort Ryan this year? And the Bylow boys, and the Mountain? Thank God, men may come and go, but Cedar Mountain will stand forever."
"I think so, too; but all the same, I won't use his story if it can be dispensed with. The less we dig into this thing the better." A little later the notice came from Dr. Jebb, inviting Deacon Higginbotham to a meeting at his house that evening, for important business. As he walked across the village Charlie Bylow stepped out from a dark corner near Dr. Jebb's house.
Isabel took note, but kindly gave a long sigh of admiration, and with an exalted sweep of the hand drew the gaze of the five to the beauties of the scene below. The day was near its end. The long shadow of the great cliff behind Bylow Hill hung over the roofs of the town and over the hither meadows.
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