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Updated: June 11, 2025
What's the good wind blowing you over this way already? Carr tossed his hat to the table, drew up a chair for himself and took a cigar before he answered. Then it was quietly and earnestly. 'Met up with Jim Courtot the other night, I hear? he began. Howard nodded and waited, his look curious. 'Well, went on Carr, 'I wish you hadn't. He's a treacherous beast if this man's land ever cradled one.
As for Jim Courtot, already he and Howard hated each other as perforce two men of their two types must come to do. Here again was ample cause for fresh hatred; he drove his horse on furiously, anxious to come upon Courtot, thanking God in his heart that he could look to his enemy for scant words and a quick gun.
Howard had bought and paid for the pasture land; the loss was his, not Sunderberg's; Courtot, if Courtot it was, or perhaps Monte Devine or Ed True, had been before him. Sanchia's venom for, be the hand of the agent whose it may, he recalled always the look in Sanchia's eyes and the threat from Sanchia's lips seemed to travel with him and in front of him.
The gambler would shoot from the dark, as he had done before, if he had the chance. That chance might come to-night or a year from now, and constant expectancy of this sort would, soon or late, get on a man's nerves. In short, if Courtot wanted to start something, Howard fully meant to have it an even break; if Courtot were looking for him he could expedite matters by looking for Courtot.
And Jim Courtot must have realized how small was his chance of coming to it. They saw him plunge on. The light slowly increased. They saw how the dogs and men gained upon him. They lost sight of all down in the ravine among the shadows. They saw Courtot again, still in the lead but losing ground. They lost sight of him again. They heard a wild scream, a gun fired, the howl of a dog.
She appears to have it in for me; she hates you for standing between her and your father. She knows that I love you, and Longstreet was calling from the door, 'Helen, I want you and Howard to come back. We must talk everything over. Mrs. Murray has much to explain; she hates Jim Courtot and his crowd, she is working against them instead of with them.
But he knew upon the moment that Courtot was not here. At the bar were his own men ranged up thirstily; they saw him and called to him and had no warning to give. So he passed on down the long room until he stopped at a little table where three men sat. One of them, a thick, squat fellow with a florid face and small mean eyes, looked up at him and glowered.
You know, Norma," Annie resumed, "Leslie comes by her temper naturally. She is half French; her mother was a Frenchwoman Louison Courtot." "It's a pretty name," Norma commented. "Did you know her?" "Know her? She was my maid when I was about seventeen, a very superior girl. I used to practise my French with her. She was extremely pretty.
Melrose paid me for it. And then one day Louison Courtot came to see me I'd known her, of course Mr. Theodore's wife, that had been Miss Annie's maid. She had a letter from Mrs. Melrose, and she took Leslie away, and gave her to her grandmother just according to plan. Well, I didn't like it though it gave the child her rights, but it didn't seem honest.
Still higher rose her curiosity about a man whom she did her feminine best to ignore this morning. Before they came to the ranch-house Helen and her father were riding ahead, while the two friends dropped further and further back. Carr listened with keen interest as Alan sketched the happenings of the last few days. He whistled softly at what he learned of the man on the trail of Jim Courtot.
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