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Updated: June 26, 2025
Venters's agitation stilled to the trace of suppressed eagerness in Lassiter's query. "Milly Erne's story? Well, Lassiter, I'll tell you what I know. Milly Erne had been in Cottonwoods years when I first arrived there, and most of what I tell you happened before my arrival. I got to know her pretty well. She was a slip of a woman, and crazy on religion.
Venters wheeled in his chair to regard Lassiter in amazement, and Jane slowly raised herself in white, still wonder. "Milly Erne's grave?" she echoed, in a whisper. "What do you know of Milly Erne, my best-beloved friend who died in my arms? What were you to her?" "Did I claim to be anythin'?" he inquired. "I know people relatives who have long wanted to know where she's buried, that's all."
It was Dyer, of course, who stole you from Milly. Part reason he was sore because Milly refused to give you Mormon teachin', but mostly he still hated Frank Erne so infernally that he made a deal with Oldrin' to take you an' bring you up as an infamous rustler an' rustler's girl. The idea was to break Frank Erne's heart if he ever came to Utah to show him his daughter with a band of low rustlers.
"And if she wants to use some of the money, will you help me?" asked Beryl, in a meek voice. "Ah, most surely. And proudly." Beryl rode back to Miss Erne's in a contritely humble mood. "I wish there were some sort of medicine one could take to make them better inside their hearts!
A few times Jane had seen Lassiter's cool calm broken when he had met little Fay, when he had learned how and why he had come to love both child and mistress, when he had stood beside Milly Erne's grave. But one and all they could not be considered in the light of his present agitation.
"I promised Jane Withersteen I'd try to avoid Tull. I'll keep my word. But sooner or later Tull and I will meet. As I feel now, if he even looks at me I'll draw!" "I reckon so. There'll be hell down there, presently." He paused a moment and flicked a sage-brush with his quirt. "Venters, seein' as you're considerable worked up, tell me Milly Erne's story."
But they rode steadily on their way, and when they came up to the knolls they saw that it was War-brand indeed with a score of men at his back; but they stirred not when they saw Erne's company that it was great. Then Erne laughed aloud and cried out in a big voice, "What, lads! ye ride early this morning; are there foemen abroad in the Isle?"
"Bishop Dyer, I don't want to tell." He waved his hand in an imperative gesture of command. The red once more leaped to his face, and in his steel-blue eyes glinted a pin-point of curiosity. "That first day," whispered Jane, "Lassiter said he came here to find Milly Erne's grave!" With downcast eyes Jane watched the swift flow of the amber water.
"Relatives? She never spoke of relatives, except a brother who was shot in Texas. Lassiter, Milly Erne's grave is in a secret burying-ground on my property." "Will you take me there?... You'll be offendin' Mormons worse than by breakin' bread with me." "Indeed yes, but I'll do it. Only we must go unseen. To-morrow, perhaps."
I mentioned boycotting just now, but I am tempted to pause, because a new generation that knows not Parnellism, nor the extent of crime in that unhappy period, may not be aware of the origin of the term. Captain Boycott was agent for Lord Erne's Mayo estates, and laid out the whole of his capital £6000, in improving and stocking his own property.
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