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Updated: June 16, 2025
Brentshaw peremptorily refused to let Gilson copper the queen, intimating at the same time, in his frank, forthright way, that the privilege of losing money at "this bank" was a blessing appertaining to, proceeding logically from, and coterminous with, a condition of notorious commercial righteousness and social good repute.
When they came back to the Gilson hedge, he stopped at the gate, with terrific respectableness removed his cap. "Good night," she said cheerily. "Call me up soon again." He did not answer "Good night." He said "Good-by"; and he meant it to be his last farewell. He caught her hand, hastily dropped it, fled down the hill. He was, he told himself, going to leave Seattle that evening.
Brentshaw expected neither profit from the will nor litigation in consequence of its unusual provisions; Gilson, although frequently "flush," had been a man whom assessors and tax collectors were well satisfied to lose no money by.
And upon the last day of the memorable period to which legal action under the Gilson will was limited, the sun went down upon a region in which the moral sense was dead, the social conscience callous, the intellectual capacity dwarfed, enfeebled, and confused! But Mr. Brentshaw was victorious all along the line.
"I do think we ought to have invited Belle Torrens," fretted Mrs. Gilson. "We've simply got to have her here soon." Mr. Gilson speculated intensely, "But she's the dullest soul on earth, and her husband spends all his spare time in trying to think up ways of doing me dirt in business. Oh, by the way, did you get the water tap in the blue room fixed? It's dripping all the time." "No, I forgot it."
Besides the chairmen for the sixteen congressional districts, each of the forty senatorial districts had its chairman, all working under the State Chairman of Organization, Mrs. Sara S. Gilson. She was followed by Mrs. Mary P. Sleeper and by Mrs. Elizabeth Tilton, who formed an Advisory Council of 100 influential men in preparation for the campaign to ratify the Federal Amendment.
Gilson was also employed by the British army during the Zulu war in Africa, as chief packer, at a salary of twenty dollars a day. Now, however, since the railroads have penetrated the once considered impenetrable fastnesses of the mountains, packing will be relegated to the lost arts.
In nearly all the expeditions on the great plains and in the mountains he has been the master-spirit of the pack-trains. General Sheridan, who knew Gilson long before the war, in Oregon and Washington, regarded the celebrated packer with more than ordinary friendship.
Mammon Hill was at last of one mind. Not much was said, but that Gilson must hang was "in the air." But at this critical juncture in his affairs he showed signs of an altered life if not a changed heart. Perhaps it was only that "the bank" being closed against him he had no further use for gold dust. Anyhow the sluice boxes were molested no more forever.
The likeness was indeed complete, even to the full, stony eyes, and a certain shadowy circle about the neck. It was without coat or hat, precisely as Gilson had been when laid in his poor, cheap casket by the not ungentle hands of Carpenter Pete for whom some one had long since performed the same neighborly office. The spectre, if such it was, seemed to bear something in its hands which Mr.
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