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Updated: June 20, 2025
He paused over but one object "The Essays of Elia," which had somehow fallen behind a trunk. Standing there in the middle of Dill's room, he turned the little blue book absently in his hand. There was dust upon the other side, and he wiped it off, manlike, with a sweep of his forearm. He looked at the trunk; he had just locked it with much straining of muscles and he hated to open it again.
"I was over there before noon," said Florence, "and Aunt Julia gave me a quarter and said she'd write a note for me to take to Noble Dill's house when he came home for lunch, and give it to him. She kind of slipped it to me, because grandpa came in there, pokin' around, while she was just finishin' writin' it.
"But what an idiot he must be to venture here!" uttered Richard. "Here of all places in the world!" "He counts, no doubt, on not being known. So far as I can find out, Richard, nobody here did know him, save you and Afy. I shall put you in Mr. Dill's room you may remember the little window in it and from thence you can take a full view of Thorn, whom I shall keep in the front office.
Wherever Billy went and in those weeks Billy rode and worked with a feverish intensity that was merely a fight against bitter thinking Dill's stirrup clacked close alongside. He was silent, for the most part, but sometimes he talked reminiscently of Michigan and his earlier life there.
Preciosa set the day; Little O'Grady traced Prochnow's name in elaborate letterings and clapped this new placard over Gowan's own; and all waited intent to see just what of interest would develop in the countenance of the daughter of the McNultys, and just what Ignace Prochnow would be able to make of it. Nor did she find in her painter any of Dill's soft suavity.
Dill's telegram, which came last night, informs me that he has carried out my instructions, and therefore, individually, and as the President of the Bitter Root Placer Mining Company, I now control one hundred and sixty acres of ground up and down the river, including the bar upon which your cabin stands." Sprudell's small, red mouth curved in its tantalizing smile. "You'll never hold it!"
In the boot was the leg of a cavalryman who had been blown to pieces many yards away. On the boot was a great spur which stuck into Dill's brain. It took four of them to pull the boot out, and a piece of brain came away with the spur, looking "just like a grey jellyfish." One of the officers, horrified by the tale, rushed away for the doctor.
I am not too fine, am I?" Poor old Dill's "finery" consisted of a white waistcoat with gold buttons, and an embroidered shirt-front. Miss Corny was pleased to regard it with sarcastic wrath. "Fine!" echoed she. "I don't know what you call it. I would not make myself such a spectacle for untold gold.
Sequin?" Dillingham smiled with superior amusement. "I guess she didn't have to be told. I imagine she thought of it before we did. Rather keen on me, you know, from the start." Donald drew in his breath but said nothing. Had it not been true, how he would have enjoyed punching Dill's head! "You get off to the Orient this week, I suppose," went on Dillingham. "Lucky devil!
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