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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Why DO you, Bill?" reiterated the irritating voice, and Farnsworth's never very patient temper gave way. "Shut up, Daisy!" he cried. "I'm doing the best I can, but that's all the good it does. We've got to stop. The gasolene is out!" All of them, accustomed to motors, knew what this meant. Like a flash, each mind flew back to think who was to blame for this.
I did not like straight rum, but I preferred it to Farnsworth's rather imaginative cocktails. "I'll show you, John," he said. He opened the box and I could see that it was packed with some kind of batting. He fished in this and withdrew a gray ball about the size of a golfball and set the box on the mantel. "And that's the eraser?" I asked. "Yes," he said.
His priestly experience with desperate men was demanding of him a proper regard for that subtlety of procedure which had so often compassed most difficult ends. He listened in silence to Farnsworth's story.
One of Patty's prettiest evening frocks was a dainty French thing of white chiffon, decked with pale green ribbons and exquisite artificial apple blossoms made of satin. With a smile at the memory of Farnsworth's allusion to apple blossoms, she put it on, and twisted a wreath of the same lovely flowers in her golden crown of curls. Then she danced downstairs to find the Western man awaiting her.
With Helm it was quite different; smoking, drinking, playing cards, telling good stories in a word, rude and not unfrequently boisterous conviviality drew him and the commandant together. Under Captain Farnsworth's immediate supervision the fort was soon in excellent repair and a large blockhouse and comfortable quarters for the men were built.
She looked up, and saw smiling at her the blue eyes of Bill Farnsworth. Mrs. Brewster had tied a chiffon scarf over Patty's hair, and as Patty looked up in Farnsworth's face, the moonlight illumined her own face until she looked more like a fairy than a human being. "Apple Blossom!" said Big Bill, under his breath. "I never shall find a more perfect name for you than that!
The smile she flashed at him brought an answering smile to Farnsworth's face, but as he stepped forward to urge her to grant his wish, Patty slipped her hand in Roger's arm, and joined the others who were already going to the dining-room. She had quickly seen that this move on her part would leave Farnsworth no choice but to escort Daisy Dow, for Roger had been assigned to that fair maiden.
"Arrah now, it's yersilf is the vilyan! Ye ought to be proud to be kidnapped by Miss Patty, and Misther Bill! Get down here, ye gossoon, an' behave like a dacint woman!" Susan's authoritative voice, and Farnsworth's apparent readiness to assist her, if she delayed, persuaded Mrs. O'Brien to leave the car. She went into the kitchen with Susan, and Patty turned a beaming face to Bill.
There followed a silence, during which the aromatic breath of the bottle increased its dangerous fascination. Then Father Beret again filled Farnsworth's cup and said: "Ah, the blessed monks, little thought they that their matchless brew would ever be sipped in a poor missionary's hut on the Wabash! But, after all, my son, why not here as well as in sunny France?
"You were a brave, true friend, and I shall never forget your chivalry and true kindness." A moment more he held her hands, gazing deep into her eyes, and then turned abruptly to greet Daisy. At Farnsworth's directions, the "rescuing party" had brought with them a glazier and his kit of tools and materials.
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