Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
"I dunno how ye kin purtend ter be so all-fired sure o' Sycamore Gap," he said suddenly. "'T ain't five minutes sence ye war 'lowin' ez pore folks couldn't git 'lected ter office, an' ye wished ye hed hed nothin' ter do with sech, an' 't war me ez bed jes' pushed an' boosted ye inter it." The resources of subterfuge are well-nigh limitless. Walter Hoxon was an adept in utilizing them.
She had risen to her feet; her eyes flashed upon him; her beautiful face wore a look of pride. It might have elicited from another man a protest of its beauty. He stared at her with an expression of alarm that was almost ghastly. "Other men like me fur my looks, ef ye don't, Justus Hoxon," she said in indignation. "Ef they jes' likes ye fur yer looks they won't like ye long," Hoxon said severely.
Daylight found Justus Hoxon far on the road to the mountains. In the many miles, as he fared along, his thoughts could hardly have been pleasant company. As he sought to discover fault or flaw in himself, search as he might, he could find naught that might palliate the flippant faithlessness of his beloved, or the treachery of his brother.
"I ain't heard 'bout that," he said in a mellifluous voice. "Ye know I was tucked up in yonder" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder "tendin' to the countin' of the votes, bein' returnin'-officer. Who married?" "Why this hyar Walter Hoxon him ez is candidate fur sher'ff," said the red-haired interlocutor, widening his grin. Beckett elevated his heavy, grizzled eyebrows.
The languid sense of a late hour had dulled the pulses, and when Justus Hoxon turned back to earth it was to an almost depopulated scene, the realization of the approach of midnight, and the sight of Theodosia sitting alone in the moonlight on the steps of the east door of the court-house, waiting for him with a touching patience, as it seemed to him at the moment.
At the name the other had turned slightly away and looked down, a gesture that invidious daylight might have interpreted as anxiety, or faltering, or at the least replete with consciousness. But even if open to observation, it could scarcely have signified aught to Justus Hoxon, wrapped in his own thoughts, and in his absorbing interest in the events of the day.
A pause, then Walter Hoxon pulled himself together and retorted: "Nappin'!" in scornful falsetto. "How could I get a shot, with ye a-trompin' up ez n'isy ez a herd o' cattle?" The reproach evidently struck home, for the elder said nothing. With the thoroughness characteristic of the habitual liar, Walter proceeded to add circumstance to his original statement.
It needed only this the allusion to her commonplace mother, the recollection of the forlorn little mountain home, the idea of her mother's insistent championship of Justus Hoxon to bring the avowal so long trembling on her lips. "I won't! I ain't likin' ye nowadays, Justus Hoxon, nor fur a long time past. I ain't keerin' nothin' 'bout ye." There was something in her tone that carried conviction.
It was only when the deer with a sudden snort and a precipitate bound fled crashing through the laurel that Walter Hoxon became aware of his presence, and of the stealthy approach that had alarmed him. The approach was stealthy no longer.
One ole man ole Sam Coggins, up ter Sims's Mill says ter me, he says, 'I dunno yer brother, Justus Hoxon; but blister my boots, ef I don't vote fur anybody ez air kin ter you-uns, an' ez ye hev set yer heart on 'lectin' ter office. An' the way folks inquired arter ye, an'" "I ain't talkin' 'bout the 'lection," Wat broke in brusquely. "I war axin' 'bout 'Dosia.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking