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Updated: June 28, 2025
"I've been postmistress an' assistant postmistress here for fifteen years, an' nobody's ever insulted me, or tried to flirt with me. I can take my oath on that." "I believe you, Miss Pickett" interrupted Harley P. Hennage serenely. "Even in a tough town like San Pasqual human courage has its limitations." Miss Pickett flew to the delivery window and looked out. Harley P. was looking in.
She removed her glove, walked around the end of the lunch counter and held out her hand. "Well, Mr. Hennage. This is a delightful surprise. I'm so glad to see you back in San Pasqual. Where have you been these past three years?" Harley P. scrambled down from his high stool, took her cool hand and blushed.
He had never carried a gun before, but something seemed to tell him that he might need one to-day. Borax O'Rourke generally carried one and if Borax had talked, Mr. Hennage meant to chastise him. In consequence of which decision, Mr. Hennage, like a good gambler, decided to fill his hand and not be caught bluffing.
Mrs. Pennycook, emboldened by the absence of Harley P. Hennage, gathered about her a committee of five other ladies and swooped down on the Hat Ranch. Donna was standing at her front gate when this purity squad approached. She guessed their mission instantly, and welcomed it.
The gambler's line of reasoning was a wise one. In the chain of powerful circumstantial evidence that linked Donna Corblay to Bob McGraw, Mr. Hennage to travel far and fast. He went down to the station and purchased a ticket for Goldfield, Nevada. Goldfield was in the zenith of her glory about that time and Harley P. felt certain of a plethora of easy money in any booming mining camp.
Rather a queer source, indeed, for Sam Singer to seek help for his young mistress; but then Sam was not an educated aborigine; he was not given to reflecting upon the ethics of any given line of procedure. The fact of the matter was that Harley P. Hennage was the only white man in San Pasqual who deigned to honor Sam Singer with a greeting and his cast-off shoes.
Hennage turned slowly and walked out of the drug-store, for he had accomplished his mission. Once again, without recourse to violence, he had maintained his reputation as the worst man in San Pasqual, for his power lay, not in a clever bluff, but in his all-too-evident downright honesty of purpose. Had Doc Taylor presumed to fly in the face of Providence, after that warning, Mr.
I am going to start fresh again and hope you won't bear me no grudge for what I done. Trusting that the same has not caused you any inconvenience, and with best wishes I am Respectfully, In the blank space left for the purpose Mr. Hennage inserted in lead-pencil the figures representing the exact amount of coin which he had been informed by the express agent had been taken from each passenger.
She realized now the torture to which she had subjected him by her own tenderness and repression; while their marriage had been a marvelous a wonderful event to her, to him it had been fraught with terror, despite his great love, and her thoughts harked back to the night she and Harley P. Hennage had carried him home to the Hat Ranch.
I'm a business man, and I tell you before you're half through with this fight, you'll come to the conclusion that half a loaf is better than none at all particularly in the matter of extra large loaves. You'll come to me and compromise." "Gosh, I'm dry with argument" taunted Mr. Hennage. "Now that we understand each other, let's be friends. We can be friends out o' business hours, can't we, Carey?
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