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Updated: June 11, 2025
Happily for the lateness of the hour, her loneliness, and the infelix reputation of the man before her, she was at least a safe one. And I fear the very consciousness of this scarcely relieved her embarrassment.... "I wanted to ask ye a favor about Mr. about Jack Folinsbee," began Peg hurriedly. "He's ailin' agin, and is mighty low. And he's losin' a heap o' money here and thar, and mostly to you.
"Mistress Margaret Moffat," said Jack, with lazy deliberation, taking off his watch, and beginning to wind it up, "ef you're that much stuck after Jack Folinsbee, YOU kin keep him off of me much easier than I kin. You're a rich woman. Give him enough money to break my bank, or break himself for good and all; but don't keep him forlin' round me in hopes to make a raise.
Jack Folinsbee flew into a paroxysm of fury. Colonel Starbottle raved and swore. Mr. Bungstarter was properly shocked at their conduct. "Really, gentlemen, if Mr. Culpepper Starbottle declines another shot, I do not see how we can proceed." But the Colonel's blood was up, and Jack Folinsbee was equally implacable.
"I once told him so," added that shameless young woman; "but the man instantly fell into a settled melancholy, and hasn't smiled since." A half-mile below the Folinsbee Ranch the white road dipped and was crossed by a trail that ran through Madrono hollow.
Meanwhile the subject of these animadversions proceeded slowly along the road to a point where the Folinsbee mansion came in view, a long, narrow, white building, unpretentious, yet superior to its neighbors, and bearing some evidences of taste and refinement in the vines that clambered over its porch, in its French windows, and the white muslin curtains that kept out the fierce California sun by day, and were now touched with silver in the gracious moonlight.
Jack Folinsbee, who had at the outset played a funeral march in dumb show upon an imaginary trombone, desisted, from a lack of sympathy and appreciation, not having, perhaps, your true humorist's capacity to be content with the enjoyment of his own fun. The way led through Grizzly Cañon, by this time clothed in funereal drapery and shadows.
"You will never return to Sandy Bar," said Miss Folinsbee, the "Lily of Poverty Flat," on meeting York in Paris, "for Sandy Bar is no more. They call it Riverside now; and the new town is built higher up on the river-bank. By the by, 'Jo' says that Scott has won his suit about the 'Amity Claim, and that he lives in the old cabin, and is drunk half his time.
But the bulk of her property was left to a distant relation of handsome Jack Folinsbee, and so passed out of the control of Red Dog forever. It was growing quite dark in the telegraph-office at Cottonwood, Tuolumne County, California.
The gate itself was so much in shadow that lovely night, that "old man Folinsbee," sitting on his porch, could distinguish nothing but a tall white hat and beside it a few fluttering ribbons, under the pines that marked the entrance.
The only woman who personally might have exercised any influence over the partners was the pretty daughter of "old man Folinsbee," of Poverty Flat, at whose hospitable house which exhibited some comforts and refinements rare in that crude civilization both York and Scott were frequent visitors.
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