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Updated: May 17, 2025
And he Chip had given, her a letter postmarked blatantly: "Gilroy, Ohio, 10:30 P. M." and she had been so taken up with those cussed musicians that she couldn't even thank him, and only just glanced at the letter before she stuck it inside her belt. Probably she wouldn't even read it till after the dance. He wondered if Dr. Cecil Granthum cared oh, hell!
Weary meditatively scraped his left jaw and wiped the lather from the razor upon a fragment of newspaper. "Splinter, we've throwed in together ever since we drifted onto the same range, and I'm with you, uh course. But don't overlook Dr. Cecil Granthum. I'd hate like the devil to see you git throwed down, because it'd hurt you worse than anybody I know."
Chip turned to help the agent push the suit case under the seat, where it was an exceeding tight fit getting it there, with the trunk taking up so much room. When he straightened up the Little Doctor stood ready to get into the buggy, and behind her stood Dr. Cecil Granthum, smiling in a way that disclosed some very nice teeth. "Cecil, this is Mr.
"Still, I added to the collection to-day," pursued Miss Whitmore, calmly. Duncan Whitaker. He hired a team in Dry Lake and we came out together, and I believe please don't mention Dr. Cecil Granthum to him, will you ?" Chip wished, quite savagely, that she wouldn't let those dimples dodge into her cheeks, and the laugh dodge into her eyes, like that. It made a fellow uncomfortable.
Probably, if the truth was known, there had been more than Dr. Cecil Granthum bah, what a sickening name! Cecil! It might as well be Adolphus or Regie or what does a man want to pack around a name like that for? Probably he was the kind of man that the name sounded like; a dude with pink cheeks. Chip knew just how he looked.
There were some thoughts which he could not whisper into even Silver's ear. Cecil Granthum. The Little Doctor leaned from the window and called down the hill to her recovered patient more properly, her nearly recovered patient; for Chip still walked with the aid of a cane, though by making use of only one stirrup he could ride very well.
Those lonesome hills are getting on my nerves." "I'll cover it up," said she. "Let it be. I like to look at them." Chip leaned back in his chair and watched her, a hunger greater than he knew in his eyes. It was most awfully lonesome when she was gone all day, and last night she had been writing all the evening to Dr. Cecil Granthum damn him!
Bennett the 'Chip' that I have mentioned as being at the ranch. Chip, allow me to present Dr. Cecil Granthum." Dr. Cecil advanced with hand out invitingly. "I've heard so much about Chip that I feel very well acquainted. I hope you won't expect me to call you Mr. Bennett, for I shan't, you know." Too utterly at sea to make reply, Chip took the offered hand in his. Hate Dr. Cecil?
It was such a pitiful, ghastly bluff for the cards were all against him, and he knew it. A man in Gilroy, Ohio, would take the trick which decided the game. Hearts were trumps, and Dr. Cecil Granthum had the ace. The little senator got out of his chair and faced Chip tactfully. "Kid Bennett, you rascal, aren't you going to shake hands?" His own was outstretched, waiting.
Cecil Granthum damn him! had been kicked into the world and made to fight fate with tender, childish little fists but lately outgrown their baby dimples, as had been HIS lot, would he have amounted to anything, either? Maybe Dr.
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