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Updated: June 11, 2025
When she tied up the letters and looked at the clock it was later than she thought. The room felt cold and she shivered, but sat still for a few moments, musing. The house was quiet and she imagined Mrs. Farnam was asleep; but it was snowing, for she heard the flakes beat upon the window.
Beyond the zig-zag fence, the fruit trees ran back in rows that converged and melted into a blurred mass at the edge of the bush. The narrow landscape had no prominent feature. It was smooth and calm, and Agatha found it rested her eyes and brain. She wanted to be tranquil, but must shortly rouse herself when Mrs. Farnam and George began their joint attack.
George made an abrupt movement and looked hard at her. Farnam laughed softly, and his wife leaned forward. "You see, I've found the lode. It's richer than I thought," Agatha resumed. There was silence for a few moments, and then George said: "I want time to get hold of this. You found the ore the old man talked about! It's not another stupid joke?" "Not at all.
When it was all over, Pete and Mario and the rest tried to figure it out, but none of them ever knew for sure just what had happened back on Earth, or when it had actually happened. There was too little information to go on, and practically none that they could trust. All Pete Farnam really knew, that day, was that this was the wrong year for a ship from Earth to land on Baron IV.
"I don't think you're very much better yet," Mrs. Farnam said after a pause in the talk, for she was seldom silent long. Agatha languidly looked about the room, noting the warm color of the polished floor, on which the light of the shaded lamp lay in a glistening pool, the fine skin rugs, and thick curtains.
He paused and added thoughtfully: "Looks as if the fellow had an object for searching your room!" "I wonder whether he knew I was a school teacher," Agatha remarked. "If he did know, it complicates the thing, because teachers are not often rich. Besides, how did he learn which was my room?" "That wouldn't be hard," Farnam replied.
Farnam knew, and with a tactful question here and there led the girl forward. It was, however, impossible to relate her journey and leave Thirlwell out. He took the leading part that belonged to him, and his character was firmly outlined by her memory of the things he had said and done.
His horses stood close by, with a thin cloud of steam rising from their bodies. "Lumber worth sawing is getting scarce, and we'll float the best logs down to the mill when the thaw comes," Farnam said to Agatha. "In the meantime, we want them off the ground before we clean up the pieces the boys have slashed.
"I know my sister; so do you! But she's got to start business since she can't teach school, and I hate to think of her clerking in a store. She has talent and ambition." "Talent will make its way anywhere," Farnam remarked consolingly. "I don't know! Agatha's proud and has no use for the cheap tricks that help you get ahead of the other man.
You persuaded the principal and managers when Agatha was ill." "I've come from Toronto and I saw the principal," George replied. "Couldn't get at anybody else and imagine they didn't want to see me." "Well?" said Mrs. Farnam when he stopped with some embarrassment. "She was very polite, with the kind of politeness that freezes you. Didn't say much nothing that I could get hold of and deny.
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