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Updated: June 3, 2025
Life in the open had given her the litheness and the grace of a woodland creature. The mountain woman is cheated of her youth almost before she has learned to enjoy it. But 'Lindy was still under eighteen. Her warm vitality still denied the coming of a day when she would be a sallow, angular snuff-chewer.
"Steve Carver got his," said Lang, on the way back to camp, the two men seeing that McGlory went quietly. "He was the fellow who shot at us and some of this man's gang got him, probably thinking he was one of our outfit." "Oh, poor little Lindy!" murmured Grace. Back at the camp Grace had to tell her story. "And I caught him because you boys gave me that lasso.
"Lindy had never admitted any one, save Mr. Clark. One day early in the spring, when I was trimming my roses by the wall there, the girl ran to me and said that a lady wished to see me. Why had she let her in? Lindy did not know, she could not refuse her. Had the lady demanded admittance? Lindy thought that I would like to see her.
I think you had better talk to her yourself." "I should like to meet her very much; would not you, Lindy? I should like to hear her story; it must be a blood-curdling one, to judge from its effect upon Ann. The only person I have yet met who pretended to have seen the ghost was Aunt Eleanour." "And what was it like, daddy?" asked Denis, much interested. "She did not say, Den.
If they dislike that well, there are many others." "Humph!" says Sadie, tossin' her head. "Lindy, do you hear that?" Lindy nods and keeps right on bastin' the sleeve. "But how did you ever come to marry such a person, Lindy?" Sadie demands. Carlos executes another smile at this and bows polite. "It was my fault," says he.
Between the day of 'Lindy Tolliver's outburst of grief and the child's next recollection was a gap. The setting of the succeeding memories was a frame house on a dusty road at the edge of a frontier town. In front of it jolted big freight wagons, three of them fastened together and drawn by a double row of oxen so long she could not count them.
Then I am sure she is perfectly respectable; and pray let her see as many ghosts as she cares to, especially if it leads to nothing worse than her taking a moderate quantity of brandy. Time to smoke, Lindy. I am off."
"How indeed!" said his father, rising; "that is just the puzzle. It will take you years to find it out. Lindy, look into the morning-room in about half an hour, and you will hear a tale whose lightest word will harrow up thy soul, etc., etc." As Lady Atherley kindly seconded this invitation I accepted it, though not with the consequences predicted.
For the first time a look of cunning of the pathetic cunning of a child pitted against a man awoke in her face. "En Miss Lindy sent me off befo' de year was up, Marster. My boy Jubal was born de mont' atter she done tu'n me out." She hesitated a minute, and then added, with a kind of savage coquetry, "I 'uz a moughty likely gal, Marster. You ain't done furgit dat, is you?"
No, Lindy says she's afraid to go trapesin' around town after dark. Wouldn't she quit work for an hour or so and come for a spin in the car, just to get the air? Lindy puts her hand over her mouth and shakes her head. Automobiles made her nervous. She tried one once, and was so scared she couldn't work for two hours after. The subway trains were bad enough, goodness knows!
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