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Updated: June 27, 2025


He felt most uncomfortable under the laughing gaze of those three ladies. However, he would not give way an inch. "Yes, I must go now," he said ungraciously. "But not on account of George Iredale," he added blunderingly. "I have some important work to do " He was interrupted by a suppressed laugh from Prudence. He turned upon her suddenly, glared, then walked abruptly to the door.

During his acquaintance with Iredale he had learned that the master of Lonely Ranch was not easily trifled with, neither was he the man to accept a tight situation without making a hot fight for it. It was just these things which gave Hervey the gentle qualms of excitement as he meditated upon the object of his journey.

And I almost forgot him mother's flame, George Iredale of Lonely Ranch." "Is Iredale coming? It's too bad of you to have him here, Prue. Your mother's flame um, I like that. Why, he's been after you for over three years. It's not right to ask him when I am here, besides " Grey broke off abruptly. Darkness hid the angry flush which had spread over his face. The girl knew he was angry.

While he was gone Hervey helped himself to a liberal measure of the spirit. He felt that it would be beneficial just then. His host's unconcerned manner was a little disconcerting. The rancher seemed much harder to tackle when he was present. Presently Iredale returned, and, seating himself in a deck-chair, produced a pipe, and pushed his tobacco jar over to his visitor.

The crucial moment had arrived, and her heart palpitated with nervous apprehension. Before Iredale could reply the door was flung open, and Hervey stood in their midst. Instantly every eye was turned upon him. He stood for a moment and looked round. There was a slight unsteadiness in his attitude. His great eyes looked wilder than ever, and they were curiously bloodshot.

And he never by any chance loses an opportunity of ingratiating himself with mother. I wonder what his object is?" Prudence bent over her work to hide the tell-tale flush which had spread over her face, and the skimming was once more done with the utmost care. "Mother is very fond of Mr. Iredale," she replied slowly. "He is a good man, and a good friend.

Iredale's eyes were fixed with a terrible fascination upon the print. A breath escaped him which sounded almost like a gasp. His hands clenched at his sides, and he stood like one turned into stone. "How how do you know this?" he asked, in a tense, hoarse voice. "Leslie said so with his last dying breath." There came no answering word to the girl's statement. Iredale did not move.

The front door was opened, and a fur-clad figure entered. "It's George Iredale," she went on, as the man removed his cap and displayed a crown of dark-brown hair, tinged here and there with grey, a broad high forehead and a pair of serious eyes. "Come along, George." Mrs. Malling bustled forward, followed by her daughter. "I thought you couldn't get, maybe. The folks are all dancing and dallying.

Flash after flash of lightning blazed in the heavens, and she covered her eyes with her hands, whilst the thunder seemed as though it would rend the earth from end to end. Iredale was at her side in an instant, and his arm was about her, and he drew her head upon his shoulder. Instantly her nerve was restored, and, as the noise passed, she quietly released herself.

In the meantime, like the seafaring man, he would just "stand by." "I can't thank you enough, George," said Hervey at last. "You have got me out of an awkward situation. If I can do you a good turn, I will." Iredale detected a meaning emphasis in the last remark which he resented. "Some day," the man went on; "but there I will say no more." "No, I shouldn't say anything.

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