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"You've allowed forty-six miles by an air line," Rose pointed out. "He couldn't have gone as far as Long's Peak or Evans nowhere nearly as far, because the roads are so winding when you get in the hills. He could hardly have reached Estes Park." "Right. You'll have to check up the road distances from Denver, Cole. Your job's like lookin' for a needle in a haystack.
She was glad there were no bits of autumnal woodland, no tantalizing vistas, nothing to break the flat and boundless immensity of it. Here was something big, and bountiful, and real, and primal. Good Kansas dirt. Miles of it. Miles of it. She felt she would like to get out and tramp on it, hard. "Pretty cold up there in Estes Park," the conductor had said. "Been snowing up in the mountains."
One morning when the party was camped high above Estes Park, on the flank of Long's Peak, he borrowed a rod, and rode down over a rough trail into Estes Park, for some trout.
"Now, while Estes is a second cousin of mine, 'Betty' Catherwood is my niece, and so I considered that I had a double right to stick in my oar. But I wasn't prepared for the depth of trouble that I encountered in the glance George Estes turned on me. 'So bad as that! I finished, lamely. "'It won't take long in the telling, began the boy, desperately.
Along the union line rode Captain L.G. Estes, adjutant general of the division, his cape lined with red thrown back on one shoulder, making of him a conspicuous target. He was exposing himself in most audacious fashion, as was his wont. It looked like an act of pure bravado. It was not necessary for him to furnish evidence of his gallantry.
Three days after this, Lawyer Estes was talking to John Ellison at the farmhouse. "Well, I've run down your witch," he said, smiling; "and there isn't anything to be made out of her. I've been clear to the fair-grounds at Newbury to see her. She's a shrewd one; didn't take her long to see that something was up. Sized me up for a lawyer, I guess, and shut up tighter than a clam.
A delightful book for girls. By Fannie Belle Irving, a gifted writer, and niece of Washington Irving. Illustrated from designs by Merrill. 16mo, cloth. Boston. $1.25. Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston. Or, the Florentine Gentleman. Being the story of Amerigo Vespucci. By Virginia W. Johnson, author of "The Lily of the Arno," etc.
Now, as a matter of fact, I had no part in the affair of the opal button; for on the very next day following our meeting with Estes I came down with typhoid and spent the next two months in the hospital. I saw little of Indiman during that time, but his seeming neglect was fully explained by the story he told me the night I was well enough to get back to 4020 Madison Avenue.
She stood at the entrance to the pavilion and waved a tennis-racquet impatiently. "'Coming, was the cheerful response, and Estes turned the corner of the house. He took the gravelled path at full speed. In an instant or two at the farthest he would be passing between the sun-dial and the dead pigeon, in line with those deadly radiations.
"'Of course. Then we went up-stairs to the pipe-room, where we found Crawfurd sitting gloomily over his fourth Scotch-and-soda. The clocks were striking three when we took Estes back to his apartments, and we both spent the night with him. The issue had been fairly joined, and it was exactly two months and a half to the 1st of August.
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