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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Any trouble?" went on Whitey, with a quick glance at Dave. The position of the two lads Dave with his hand grasping Len's bridle was too significant to be overlooked. "Trouble?" began Len. "Well, he he " "He made a certain statement concerning me," Dave said, quietly, looking from Len to Whitey, "and I asked him the source of his information. That is all." "What did he say?"
Len's wife sank into a neighbouring chair, to express worried hopes that the March baby would be a boy, a male in the Monroe line at last. Rose fluttered near, with pleasant plans for a dinner party. Martie's thought were with a slim, dark-blue book, safe in her bureau drawer. She wrote John immediately.
I never made much of a fuss over my babies, but I loved them, and saw that they had just what they needed at the right time." "That accounts for Webb's exuberant growth and spirit, and the ethereal beauty of Len's mature blossoming," remarked Burt. "You are a plant that never had enough pruning," retorted his portly eldest brother.
It was surrounded by useless shabby barns and outhouses, it was five times too large for the diminished family, and, in case of Pa's death and Pa was nearly seventy it must fetch what it might, for between Len's constant need of money for the Estates, and Lydia's mild helplessness, there could be no holding it for a fair price.
The baby they couldn't find; but after weeks they stumbled onto the camp where we'd left her and found everything almost buried in sand. The kid was gone, and the c'yotes hadn't got her. They was a piece o' paper in the camp; but it had rained and rained since it was stuck up there, and all the writin' was gone. In Len's things I finds the paper that I'm carryin', and I kep' it to myself.
'Do you know, he said, 'that the boy is being taught atheism? Well, what could I answer? I got rather angry, and said that Len's religious teaching was my own affair, and I couldn't see what he had to do with it; and besides, that Len wasn't being taught atheism, but that people who were not in the habit of thinking Philosophically couldn't be expected to understand such things.
"I'm not goin' to take any chances thinkin'," Pete said significantly. "I'm going to make sure." "Look here, Dave," he went on, spurring his pony up alongside of the young cowboy's. "My horse is good an fresh an' Len's doesn't seem to be in such good condition. Probably he's been abusin' it as he's done before.
"You you'd better not," Len muttered. "I want you first to answer my questions," Dave went on. "After that I'll see what happens. It's according to how much truth there is in what you have said." "Oh, it's true all right," sneered the bully. "Then I demand to know who told you!" Dave's hand shot out and grasped the bridle of the other's horse, and Len's plan of flight was frustrated.
"I have a letter to him, and I understand that he is one of the influential cattle raisers in this vicinity." Dave breathed easier. It was evident a mistake had been made. "I guess it's Len's father, Mr. Jason Molick you want to meet," Dave said. "That's right. Jason is the name!" admitted Mr. Bellmore. "I heard you mention the name Molick and I didn't pay much attention to the first part.
"Not much!" sneered Whitey Wasson, Len's crony. "But I tell you my cattle are dying, man!" exclaimed Mr. Carson. "You know what it means to steers to be without water this kind of weather." "You ought to have thought of that before you pastured them down there," sneered the cowboy. "Then you refuse to open the dam?" asked Mr. Bellmore. "We certainly do!" returned Len.
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