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Updated: June 23, 2025
See Broadmead Records and Crosby's History of Baptists, vol. ii., p. 240. Ed. "Syllogism," a form of reasoning, consisting of three propositions, having this property; that the conclusion necessarily follows from the two premises: so that if the first and second be granted, the conclusion must be granted in like manner. No wonder that Bunyan neither understood nor was awed by this hard word.
She had always heard that "Desperate cases require desperate remedies." The happenings of the past week seemed conclusive proof of the truth of the saying. Furthermore, she believed in the sincerity of Julia Crosby's repentance. It was more than skin deep. She felt that henceforward Julia would be different. Best of all, she had the reward of her own conscience.
"I met her in front of Crosby's one day last summer. And she was so sweet-looking I stopped and spoke to her I couldn't help it. She had beautiful eyes, and the softest light curls, and she was dressed so pretty, and the flowers on her hat were nice. The embroidery on her dress was very fine, too.
His one hope was that, by holding out and perchance by driving back the enemy in some skirmish which might get magnified into an important engagement, the men he so longed for the great body of the Whigs would be persuaded to flock to him. He did not let go this hope even after Crosby's visit to Bridgwater.
"Throw up your hands!" said Brown, his hoarse voice shaking perceptibly. Crosby's hands went up instantly, for he was a man and a diplomat. "Point it the other way!" cried the lady, with true feminine tact. "How dare you! Oh, will it go off? Please, please put it away! We won't try to escape!" "I'm takin' no chances on this feller," said Brown grimly.
Within five minutes of the time that he had got his clutch on Crosby's money the bandit was choking to death at the end of his own rope, hung from the limb of an apple-tree, and, having secured the gold, the Cowboys went their way into the darkness.
"It is the way I should prefer the story to end," Crosby returned. Rosmore pushed back the table, then the swords rang from their scabbards. The girl behind the curtain did not move. She had watched Rosmore's face to try and learn whether Crosby's story were true.
"I can't imagine; that's a beautiful doll." "Ain't it? It must have cost a lot. I know, because my Hattie had one her aunt gave her last Christmas; that one cost a dollar and ninety-eight cents, and it didn't begin to compare with this. That's a handsome cup and saucer, too." "Yes, but you can get real handsome cups and saucers to Crosby's for twenty-five cents. I don't think so much of that."
He would not allow his limbs to grow stiff, the cords gave a little, and every few minutes he twisted himself into a slightly different position. He would not close his weary eyes, but set his brain to work out a scheme for Crosby's downfall. The coach would certainly make for the coast presently.
Then he remembered Harriet Payne. What was the girl doing behind the curtain? Why had she not rushed into the room, as he had fully expected she would do? Had she swooned at the sight of the fighting? That he fought in an unrighteous cause he did not think about. For him right meant the attainment of what he desired, and his head was scheming as he parried Crosby's attack.
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