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Updated: June 20, 2025
She was as fully aware of Uncle Jepson's dislike of Willard Masten as she was of Uncle Jepson's testiness and of his habit of speaking his thoughts without reservation. Also, she had always avoided opposing him. It did not seem to be worth while.
And then, as Masten shook a threatening fist at him, he suddenly yielded to the mirth that was consuming him and he bowed his head. It was Uncle Jepson's warning shout that impelled him to raise his head. He saw Masten coming toward him, clawing at the foolish holster at his waist, his eyes flashing murder, his teeth bared in a snarl.
I have endeavored not to betray that trust." This might have sounded pharisaical in a man of less sincerity of speech. But Jepson's clear, straightforward eyes forbade any doubt of his honesty and truth. Again I was glad that Mrs. Schuyler had this staunch helper at her side, for I foresaw troublous times in store for her. "And you never heard of this Miss Van Allen?
Suddenly another patch of brightness appeared. It was a narrow streak at first, but it widened into an oblong and then went out. Somebody had opened the door of the homestead, and the next moment the first gleam faded and all was dark. Curtis was inclined to think this a mistake on Jepson's part, but he kept a very keen watch as the buildings grew into plainer shape against the shadowy bluff.
"An' Miss Ruth didn't want him, I reckon." He caught Uncle Jepson's nod. "She's allowin' that she's goin' to be boss. But of course she would," he added. He stood up, for Aunt Martha had opened the door and was standing in it, looking at him. He removed his hat and bowed to her, his eyes gleaming with something near affection, for Aunt Martha had found a place in his heart.
She had no reply to make to this, but she was vaguely disturbed over the expression in Vickers' eyes; that look seemed to indicate that her own first impression of the two men, and Uncle Jepson's later condemnation of them, might be correct. However, they did not bother her, and she felt certain that Masten could care for himself.
One evening at ten o'clock we came in from making a call and found the elevator-boy in his shirt-sleeves washing the hall floor. I asked him if it wasn't a little early to be doing such a thing, as people were still going and coming, and he said he was acting under Mr. Jepson's orders. Jepson was the agent.
Uncle Jepson had one quick glimpse of her eyes as she turned from him, and he knew there would be no Monday for Willard Masten. Ruth had no feelings as she rode. The news had stunned her. She had only one thought to see Hagar Catherson, to confirm or disprove Uncle Jepson's story. She could not have told whether the sun was shining, or whether it was afternoon or morning.
He sniffed in eloquent preparation for speech, but Aunt Martha averted the imminent clash by saying sharply: "Jep, you hop in there and get that ball of yarn off the dining-room table!" So potent is habit that Uncle Jepson started to obey automatically, Ruth interjected a word, speaking to Masten, and Uncle Jepson's opportunity was lost.
He was backed up now against a plate-glass window of the Tecolote Mining Company's office and Jepson was making a speech. As she drove up closer she could see Hassayamp Hicks and as the crowd shouted he broke in on Jepson's disavowal. "That ain't the question, suh!" he shouted fiercely, "we want to know who paid him! And as a personal friend of Mr.
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