Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 2, 2025
He kept excusing himself from the table to open and close windows and doors, to hang over her chair so as to feel for himself if the wind touched her. Katherine and Jack kept Li Chung trotting to the kitchen for different dainties with which to tempt her. Only Cartwell did nothing.
"Not at all," returned Cartwell. He plucked the stocking and slipper from the yucca and dropped them into his pocket. Then he stooped and lifted Rhoda across his broad chest. This roused her. "Why, you can't do this!" she cried, struggling to free herself. Cartwell merely tightened his hold and swung out at a pace that was half run, half walk.
Cartwell, however, was not looking at DeWitt but at Rhoda, and she returned his gaze, surprised at the beauty of his face, with its large, long-lashed, Mohave eyes that were set well apart and set deeply as are the eyes of those whose ancestors have lived much in the open glare of the sun; with the straight, thin-nostriled nose; with the stern, cleanly modeled mouth and the square chin, below.
"Not I! Who is she?" "Listen!" broke in Jack. "You be on the watch. An educated Indian has stolen a young lady who was visiting my wife. I own the Newman ranch. That Indian Cartwell it was, three days ago." John DeWitt interrupted. "If you can catch that Indian, if you can give us a clue to him, you needn't herd sheep any more. Lord, man, speak up! Don't stand there like a chump!"
And looking into the young Indian's deep black eyes, Rhoda felt within herself a vague stirring that for a second wiped the languor from her eyes. Cartwell spoke first, easily, in the quiet, well-modulated voice of the Indian. "Hello! All safe, I see! Mr. Newman will be here shortly." He seated himself on the upper step with his back against a pillar and fanned himself with his hat.
"Yes, sir." "Did he once live in Brooklyn?" "Yes, sir. But " and Richard paused, while his heart beat rapidly. "And was his first name John?" "Yes, sir John Cartwell Dare. But why do you ask, Mr. Clover? Is it possible that you knew him?" Tom Clover raised himself up to a sitting position. "Know him?" he cried. "We were bosom companions for eighteen months!
When the horse was ready at the post, "Look here, DeWitt," said Billy, an embarrassed look in his honest brown eyes, "I don't want you to think I'm buttin' in, but some one ought to watch that young Injun. Anybody with one eye can see he's crazy about Miss Rhoda." John was too startled to be resentful. "What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "Cartwell is a great friend of the Newmans'."
At the sight of it, Cartwell drew a deep breath, then leaned toward her and spoke with curious earnestness. "You make me feel the same way that starlight on the desert makes me feel." Rhoda replied in astonishment, "Why, you mustn't speak that way to me! It's not not " "Not conventional?" suggested Cartwell. "What difference does that make, between you and me?"
Since her childhood, men had treated her with deference, had paid almost abject tribute to her loveliness and bright charm. Cartwell was delightfully considerate of her. He was uniformly courteous to her. But it was the courtesy of noblesse oblige, without a trace of deference in it. One afternoon Kut-le sat alone on the veranda with Rhoda.
"Thanks to whom?" asked Rhoda. "It was a tall young man. He said his name was Charley Cartwell." "Yup!" answered Katherine. "Charley Cartwell! His other name is Kut-le. He'll be in to dinner with Jack, tonight. Isn't he good-looking, though!" "I don't know. I was so dizzy I couldn't see him. He seemed very dark. Is he a Spaniard?" "Spaniard! No!"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking