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Updated: May 22, 2025
"I have, your reverence. She passed me on the road this morning." "And you weren't thinking you might stop her?" "Stop her," said Pat. "Who could stop Kate from doing anything she wanted to do?" "And now your mother writes to me, Pat Connex, to ask if I will get Lennon's daughter for you." "I see your reverence has private business with Pat Connex.
The heat-flush in the girl's tanned cheeks deepened to rose. "I never before knew a man like you, Jack. Won't you call me Carmena?" The candid directness of this rather took Lennon's breath. But the girl was of the desert efficient, resolute, crude in dress, yet rich coloured as the bloom of the red-flowered cactus.
Elsie would then be freed from all danger, and the mine could be developed. From his plans for the breaking up of the criminal gang Lennon's thoughts drifted into pleasant reveries about his adorable little wife-to-be. Drowsiness crept upon him. When the lone candle on the table burned down, flickered, and went out, he was too sound asleep to waken. But his sleep was troubled with uneasy dreams.
At last the three seemed to reach some kind of an agreement. They started up the ladder, Carmena waiting until the last. The white man, who undoubtedly was the partner called Slade, led Cochise. The crisis over Lennon's presence in Dead Hole had come to a head. He felt certain that the period of waiting was about to end in some definite action either against himself or against the Apache leader.
Same way with a broncho Apache." "Apache? But I thought all Indians were now on reservations." The girl dropped the reins of her skittish, snorting pony and picked up Lennon's new sombrero. Through the middle of the high peak was a neatly drilled bullet hole. "Poor shot for an Apache," she said. "Good, though, for ventilation."
Was there not a certain garishness about her rich colouring? And was all the brown of her skin on the outside? Both her hair and eyes were dark, and there was her Spanish name Carmena. Was she not, in part, of Mexican blood? Some hint of Lennon's thoughts may have shown in his expression.
She then gave all the cornmeal to the beast and brought slices of raw bacon to share with Lennon. He clasped the hand in which she held out his first slice. "So we made it, after all. Good work?" "Yes, we made it, Jack!" she exulted. "Close shave but worth the risk. I know now for sure you're a man, a real man!" Her glowing eyes brought a deeper red into Lennon's sunburnt face.
They were not engineers or dam builders. The race up the cañon was far different from the terrible flight of the previous day and the misery of the night. The cool spring water had been very refreshing, lofty cliffs shadowed the cañon bed from the hot morning sunrays, and the pain of Lennon's lacerated hand had eased to a dull ache. He took turn about with Carmena, riding and running.
"If Mrs. M'Shane tells the same story as you do we'll go to your mother's, and afterwards I'll go to see Lennon about his daughter." Pat's dancing with Kate and Kate's flight to America had reached Lennon's ears, and it did not seem at all likely that he would consent to give his daughter to Pat Connex, unless, indeed, Pat Connex agreed to take a much smaller dowry than his mother had asked for.
One of Lennon's full gallon canteens was slung to the saddlehorn, opposite the horsehair rope. From its mate the girl refilled the smaller canteen, which Lennon had already more than half emptied. She took a deep drink and then carefully closed both canteens. "Sorry, but we must cut it close on water," she said. "The bronchos have us headed off from the other tanks.
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