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Updated: May 16, 2025
I have done to a brown the Vanderbilt place, the Sunset Drive, and the junction of the Swannanoa and the French Broad. I flogged a rebellious horse to Gold View, and I scaled Beaumont and looked down into Chunn's Cove. I gazed at the you will excuse me, I hope faded exterior of a tobacco warehouse " "The farmers don't grow much now," interpolated Bob. "So I was told.
Captain Chunn's walking stick flagged the lad and brought him sliding across the polished floor. "Telegram for Mr. Rawson." The big politician ripped it open and ran his eyes rapidly over the yellow slip. From his lips burst a sudden oath of surprise. "By Jupiter, the miracle's happened. Jeff is alive and on his way here. He's sent me a wireless from out at sea somewhere." "What!"
The company could give no information more definite than that the message had come from the Bellingham, which was still a couple of hundred miles out at sea. In view of the value of the news from a strategic slant his friends succeeded in keeping the lid on Captain Chunn's enthusiasm until the party was safe aboard a fast yacht steaming out of the harbor to meet the Bellingham.
"Better still, I'll bring around Captain Chunn's car and Sam can drive you home. We can't be too careful." So it was arranged. Mrs. Anderson left it to them and went back into the bedroom where her wounded lamb lay. About midnight Jeff stopped a car in front of the stairway. The two veiled women emerged, accompanied by Sam. They were helped into the tonneau and Miller took the driver's seat.
From out of the heart of it cantered a rider, who swung his pony as on a half dollar, and deflected the remuda toward Chunn's corral. The rider was in the broad-rimmed felt hat, the gray shirt, the plain leather chaps of a vaquero. The alkali dust of Arizona lay thick on every exposed inch of him, but youth bloomed inextinguishably through the grime.
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