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Updated: June 27, 2025
She swung her mare round and galloped down the valley to the north. Her object was to clear the valley and then turn off to the west on the almost disused trail to Damside. Iredale looked after her until the sound of the mare's hoofs died away in the distance. He was filled with wonder at her strange request and her hurried departure.
Her eyes alone still told of the madness that possessed her. Nor was Iredale without an uneasy feeling at what he saw that catch of breath; that hunted look as she gazed about the room. Intuition served him in the moment of crisis. What was the meaning? Why was that hand concealed in her dress? There was only one possible answer to such questions, and he read the answer aright.
At least one of the three ladies possessed an observant mind. Sarah saw that the man had been drinking. To her the signs, though slight, were unmistakable. The others did not seem to notice his condition. "Ah," he said, with an attempt at pleasantry, "a nice little party. Well, I've come for the dibs." His eyes lit upon the figure of George Iredale, and he broke off.
She turned back to her lover, and the agonized expression of her face had changed, and in her eyes was the eager light of excitement. Iredale saw the change, but did not recognize its meaning. He felt that she must no longer remain there. "Child, I want you to go back to the farm and tell them of the accusation that has been brought against me. Tell them all the circumstances of it.
The sitting-room door had been opened by Alice, who had entered the moment Iredale had released the handle. Now they could hear the farm-wife moving about overhead, evidently on her way down-stairs. Sarah was the first to recover her presence of mind. She turned upon Robb. "Not a word to her about about " Robb shook his head. Iredale snatched the pistol from the dead man's hand. Mrs.
"Ah, Prue, you can't hide these things from me. I have always intended to say something, but you are such an austere person that I was afraid of getting a snub. Mr. Iredale is a charming man, and well I hope when it comes off you'll be very, very happy." "Don't be absurd, Alice." Prudence had recovered herself now.
Iredale had already adjusted himself into a comfortable chintz-covered arm-chair when Grey arrived upon the scene. A great briar pipe hung from the corner of his strong, decided mouth, and he was smoking thoughtfully. Grey moved briskly to another chair and flung himself into its depths with little regard for its age. Nor did he attempt to smoke.
He had not thought that Iredale would have been so easy to handle. "Um. A very nice, comfortable arrangement for you." Iredale moistened his lips slowly. "You'll sup the juice while I squeeze the orange for you. No, friend Hervey, I'm not dealing." "But you must!" "Must?" "Yes; don't be a fool. It means more money to you, and I shall share in the profits."
After that I shall go into Winnipeg and set the law in motion. I will clear myself or otherwise. But on your honour you must promise that all I have shown you to-day remains a secret between us." Prudence listened intently to all he said, but a quiet look of resolve slowly crept into her eyes. "I promise," she said, and Iredale thanked her with a look.
"He don't waste words," observed Hervey, indicating the man, who had silently disappeared into the stable, taking the horse with him. "No; he's dumb," replied Iredale. "He's my head boy." "Boy?" "Yes. Sixty-two." The two men passed into Iredale's sitting-room. It was plainly but comfortably furnished in a typical bachelor manner.
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