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Updated: June 23, 2025
"I want to see Miss Jierdon," he told the cook who had opened the door. That person shook her head. "She's gone." "Gone? Where?" "To town, I guess. She came back here from Miss Robinette's last night and packed her things and left. She didn't say where she was going. She left a note for you." "Let me have it!" There was anxiety in the command.
In the meantime, with the lease and contract in my hands, I had hooked up with this man here, Blackburn, and he had started a mill for me. I guess Miss Jierdon had gotten to thinking a little of Houston, after all, because when I forced her to the final thing of telling some lies about him to a young woman, she did it, but went away mad at me and threatening never to see me again.
The old Canadian was glaring now, his voice was thunderous. "No! No! You shall not go! You hear Ba'teese, huh? You tell Medaine that is a lie! Un'stan'? That is a lie!" "It is," Houston heard his voice as though coming from far away, "but I don't know how to answer it. I I can't answer it. Where is Miss Jierdon? Is she here? May I see her?"
The whole thing's silly, as far as I can see, Barry. This man, whoever he is, has been stuffing you full of stories. There " "This man, Agnes," and Barry Houston's voice carried a quality he never before had used with Agnes Jierdon, "is the best friend I ever had. You'll realize it before long. He not only has saved my life, but he's going to help me save my business.
I'm trying to tell you the truth, without any veneer to my advantage." "Bon! Good! Eet is best." "Miss Jierdon is the same one who is out here?" "Yes." "She testified in your behalf?" "Yes. And Miss Robinette, if you'll only talk to her if you'll only ask her about it, she'll tell you the story exactly as I've told it. She trusted me; she was the only bright spot in all the blackness.
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