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Updated: June 14, 2025
"I'm givin' you a hunch. He's damn queer fer a fellar who expects to break jail." "No matter. Let's get at it, pronto." Hurd got up, and laid his gun on the table. Then he turned over the bench, threw papers on the floor. "Thar's the key, an' heah's a rope. Hawg-tie me." With that he turned his back. Swiftly Pan bound him securely, and let him down upon the floor.
But before he got there he saw his mother emerge, drag Bobby, who evidently wanted to stay. Then Alice followed. Both she and her mother were carrying bundles. Pan's heart made ready for a second and greater leap in anticipation of Lucy's appearance. But she did not come. "Hello, heah's your folks, pard, figgerin' from looks," said Blinky. "What a cute kid! ... Look there!"
You'se to slip out frew de ole log-room heah you carn't git out frew de hall; fur yo' pap'll heah you, shore, kaze his door's open, an' you knows he allus sleeps wid one eye an' bofe years open. But you go inteh de log-room, an' clamb out by de windah. See! Heah's a rope I done mek outen bedclothes.
His father took it up and, half pulling it out, looked at it by the starlight. "Forty-four, eh? Wal, wal, there's shore no better, if a man can hold straight." At the moment a big gray dog trotted up to sniff at Jean. "An' heah's your bunkmate, Shepp. He's part lofer, Jean. His mother was a favorite shepherd dog of mine. His father was a big timber wolf that took us two years to kill.
And heah's Uncle Tom in his soldier clothes, and this is mothah's great-great-aunt that was such a belle in the days of Clay and Webstah." She led the way around the room, introducing Betty to all the old family portraits, with interesting tales about each one. Then she went back to her harp, and Betty sat down in front of the first picture again.
While he was engaged in these speculations the door opened. "Heah's Miss Sally, Marse Ho'ace," said Sam. "Good morning, Sally," said Mr. Bentley, rising from the table with his customary courtesy, "I'm glad you came in. Let me introduce Mr. Hodder, of St. John's." Miss Grover had capability written all over her.
And on either side of them came down the darkness, sweeping past them, pressing close, and before them wavered the faltering light, and the cool damp air came fingering and touched their faces. Zeke stopped the car. The rushing darkness stopped. The breeze was still. "Heah's de place," he said, and his voice was lower; Joe could barely hear him. "I thought it was Fillmore. This isn't Fillmore."
If anything should happen to me, strike fo' yo' place on the San Simon. The reason I'm goin' first is so that yo' can escape in the excitement if they spot me. Heah's luck! I'll turn my hoss loose now." They shook hands. Then, like a lithe moving shadow, the Texan crept out into the night.
Her gray glance swept swiftly after Alfred, who was now far out of earshot. "I don't like this a little bit. Heah's where I've got to 'figger, as Bill says." She pondered a moment, then hurried into the house, to return presently with the field-glass that Alfred had used. With this she took a survey of the valley, particularly in the direction of Madeline's ranch-house.
Heah's plenty o' cawn pone, hom'ny, bacon an' taters, I reckon; 'sides cawn an' oats an' stable room fur yer nag. All we ax is thet you nevah say board to us agin. But, ef you like," he added kindly, "you kin holp Henry an' Cissy some o' nights in ther books, an' mek a hand to wuck roads, one Sat'dy in each month tell snow comes."
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