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Updated: June 2, 2025
That this was done from some delicate sense of respect to the preacher's domiciliary presence, and not entirely to secure complete quiet and seclusion for the invalid, was evident from the fact that Mr. Hamlin's drawing and dining rooms, and even the hall, were filled with eager friends and inquirers.
The first camp had been made on the Wolf at a shallow about five miles north of the Two Bar, Hamlin's ranch. And with the clear, sparkling, icy water of the river on his face, and glistening beads of it on his colorless eyelashes, the giant had growled to several of his brother cowboys, who were likewise performing their ablutions at the river: "This damn wind is worse'n a Kansas regular.
But," Miss Moore laughed, "it makes a perfectly great personal story, because it has such a funny side to it: 'Foiled by the "Automobile Girls"! 'The Assistant Secretary of State's Daughter!" Miss Moore stopped, ashamed of her cruelty when she saw Mr. Hamlin's face. But he did not speak. It was Bab who exclaimed: "Oh, Miss Moore, you are not going to betray Harriet, are you?
An hour later, when the colonel drove up to the Pyecrofts' door with Pansy, he found that Mr. Pyecroft was slightly embarrassed, and a figure, which, in the darkness, seemed to resemble Mr. Hamlin's, had just emerged from the door as he entered. Yet the sun was not up on Burnt Ridge earlier than Mr. Hamlin.
There was no one about, and she rode back and forth on the street, searching for Hamlin's horse, which would give her a clue to Hamlin's whereabouts. And at last, peering into a vacant space between two buildings she saw Hamlin's horse, and another, hitched to a rail near an outside stairway.
"I'm Prudence Fennell, marm, and father's George Fennell. He's one of them that were fetched from Barrington jail yesterday, and he's sick. He's at Mis Hamlin's, please marm." "Surely, by that he must be one of the debtors. The sheriff is more like to come for them than the doctor. They will be back in jail in a few days, no doubt," said Mrs. Partridge, sharply. "No one will be so cruel.
Hamlin quickly followed him, unperceived, and, as he stepped into the street, gently tapped him on the shoulder. The boy turned and faced him quickly. But Mr. Hamlin's eyes showed nothing but lazy good-humor. "Hullo, Bob. Where are you going?" The boy again looked up suspiciously at this revelation of his name. "Home," he said, briefly. "Oh, over yonder," said Hamlin, calmly.
"How do you know, Mrs. Wilson, that I have not received his permission to enter this room? But you! Will you be good enough to explain to me why you were hiding behind the curtains in Mr. Hamlin's study when I came in? You, too, knew Mr. Hamlin was not at home. Besides, Harriet receives her guests in the drawing-room, not in here." "I came to see Mr. Hamlin on private business," Mrs.
Right or wrong there was plainly no use continuing the argument, for Hamlin's fingers were upon the butt of his revolver, and his eyes hardened at the delay.
Hamlin's pride in his usual ascendency over women, children, horses, and all unreasoning animals was deeply nettled. He smiled, however, and said, quietly, "Come here, George Washington. I want to talk to you."
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