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Updated: June 1, 2025
"And go down into the town and buy three or four packs of cards." "Yes, sir." Silence for a few moments, and then the lieutenant began again, just as Jerry had come to the conclusion that he could name the guests expected, one of whom was certain to be Mark Frayne. "And he won't be very glad to see me here," thought Jerry, who started at his master's next words.
He began to lay out the cards in neat little packs. "Bulbs are coming through nicely. I was hoping to spend a day or two in the garden but I'm afraid not 'fraid it won't be possible." Cassis put his hands behind his back. "This business," he said. "Yes." Lord Almont Frayne, a rather resplendant young man of thirty, came into the room with all the bounce of youth.
Ennis had often marked him during the campaign and noted his regard for Bob, and felt kindly disposed toward him until mid September, when two troops were sent in to Frayne, with the pack train and orders to load up with rations and escort it back.
The item was an announcement from the Rexhills of the engagement of their daughter Helen to Mr. Maxwell Frayne. Dorothy watched Wade's face eagerly as he read, and she was entirely content when she saw there no trace of his former sentiment for Helen Rexhill.
Everything's to be rushed to the Big Horn at once. Just as you predicted, Red Cloud's band has broken loose. There's been a devil of a fight not eighty miles from Frayne!" And now indeed came for Marshall Dean a time in which he could see a divided duty.
The band, by this time a fixture at Frayne, had been playing delightfully, and some of the girls and young gallants had been waltzing on the Rays' veranda. A few new faces were there. Two faces, well known, were missing, those of Esther Dade and Beverly Field. The latter had never been the same man since the tragic events that followed so closely on the heels of the Lame Wolf campaign.
Two or three people began at once to ask questions, which Richard Frayne could not answer, while his companion's replies were confused and wild. "Yes, he's dead enough," said someone, coarsely, and the words seemed to echo through Richard's brain.
But, try hard as he would, he could not think it out; for the more he thought, the more it seemed to him that he had completely obliterated himself by his foolish act that Sir Richard Frayne was dead to the world and Dick Smithson reigned in his stead. Dick Smithson was busy, a few mornings later, working with his hands as well as his brain.
"I tell you I never authorised anyone to borrow money for me, sir." "Well, Sir Richard Frayne, Baronet, there's the transaction down in a neat handwriting in my book, and I give a cheque for it, and there's the cheque as come back from the bank with your name on the back, as well as Mr Mark Frayne's on the receipt." "What?"
What a blessed piece of luck it was that the commanding officer at Frayne had bidden him take that route instead of the direct road to Gate City! He had sent men riding in to both posts on the Platte, with penciled lines telling of the Indian raid and its results.
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