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Updated: June 8, 2025
"I'm as good a man as any baron that ever lived," he said; "and if it pleases Hankinson J. Terwilliger to live in a baronial hall, a baronial hall is where Hankinson J. Terwilliger puts up." "We certainly have none of the feeling which your words seem to attribute to us, my dear sir," the agent had answered.
The couple smoked a minute or two in silence. Then Weber, without removing his pipe from between his lips, uttered the words: "Budd, something's going to happen powerful soon." Hankinson, also keeping his pipe between his lips, turned his head and looked wonderingly at his friend. He did not speak, but the action told his curiosity; he did not understand the words.
But it was his friend, who was coming on the run. Budd Hankinson had heard the call, and obeyed it with surprising promptness. "What's up?" he asked, as he halted, breathing not a whit faster because of his unusual exertion. "They're running off some of the cattle; where's the hosses?" "Hanged if I know! I called to Dick the minute I started, but he didn't show up; I don't know were he is."
"It is I, Jennie Whitney," replied the young lady, "and I am searching for help." "Well, I'll be hanged! What's up, Miss Jennie?" It was Budd Hankinson who came forward on foot, his figure appearing of gigantic proportions in the gloom.
Ariadne was in a state of grave apprehension, because she knew that much as the earl might love her, it would be difficult for them to marry on his income, which was literally too small to keep the roof over his head in decent repair. But it was not business troubles that occupied every sleeping and waking thought of Hankinson Judson Terwilliger.
He rounded to in front of the women, and halted with a suddenness that would have flung a less skilful rider over his head, but which hardly caused Budd Hankinson a jar. He read the questioning eyes, and before the words could shape themselves on the pallid lips he called out: "The mischief is to pay!" "What is it, Budd?" asked Jennie, she and her mother stepping close to his box-stirrup.
Terwilliger, the Misses Terwilliger, and Master Hankinson J. Terwilliger, Jun., of Soleton, Massachusetts, had plunged into the dizzy whirl of English society, and that the sole of the three-dollar shoe now trod the baronial halls of the Bangletops. For a time everything was plain sailing for the Americans at Bangletop. The dire forebodings of the agent did not seem to be fulfilled, and Mr.
In trying to describe it afterwards, Hankinson said that at first he thought a cold draught from a dank cavern filled with a million eels, and a rattlesnake or two thrown in for luck, was blowing over him, and he avowed that it was anything but pleasant; and then it seemed to change into a mist drawn largely from a stagnant pool in a malarial country, floating through which were great quantities of finely chopped sea-weed, wet hair, and an indescribable atmosphere of something the chief quality of which was a sort of stale clamminess that was awful in its intensity.
The first year was an enjoyable one to Jennie. Her father presented her with an excellent animal, of which she became very fond. A good horsewoman when in Maine, in Wyoming she acquired a skill which compelled the admiration of the cowmen themselves. "She's struck her callin'," remarked Budd Hankinson one day, while watching her speeding like a courser across the open country.
Then he sent out a different call. That was for the listening ears of Budd Hankinson, who would be sure to hasten to his comrade. But Weber did not wait for man or animal. They could come as fast as they chose. The case was too urgent to admit of delay.
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