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Updated: May 1, 2025
But a queer look that flashed over MacRae's face, a suggestive drawing back of his arm, intimated that something of the same was in his mind. Heavens, but a man can think a lot in the space of time it takes to count three! I jumped for the two troopers, with a frenzied notion that I could put them both out of business if MacRae would only attend to the corporal.
Macrae's perfect confidence, he felt obliged to drop this attractive hypothesis. They dined at the usual hour, and not long after dinner Lady Bude said good-night, while her lord, who was very tired, soon followed her example.
They skidded the Bluebird out on the beach at the Cove's head and overhauled her inside and out, hull and machinery. That brought them well into April. The new carrier was complete from truck to keelson. She had been awaiting only MacRae's pleasure for her maiden sea-dip. So now, with the Bluebird sleeked with new paint, he went down for the launching. There was a little ceremony over that.
Merton found Logan, with his Spanish bull-dog, Bouncer, loafing outside the hotel door at Inchnadampf. He greeted Merton in a state of suppressed glee; the whole adventure was much to the taste of the scion of Rostalrig. Merton handed him Mr. Macrae's letter of invitation. 'Come, won't I come, rather! said Logan. 'Of course we must wait to rest the horses, said Merton.
Like wolves, MacRae thought, seeking to pick the bones of one of their own pack who had fallen. And if MacRae needed other evidence concerning Gower, he had it daily before his eyes. To labor at the oars, to troll early and late in drizzling rain or scorching sunshine, a man only does that because he must. MacRae's father had done it.
The corporal, rather chalky-looking under his tan, stepped forward and laid a hand on MacRae's shoulder. "Gordon MacRae and Sarge Flood, in the Queen's name I arrest you for the robbery of Paymaster Ingstram on the MacLeod trail and the murder of two of his escort, and I warn you that anything you may say will be used against you."
And always he came back to the Gowers, father, son and daughter, and the delicate elderly woman with the faded rose-leaf face whom he had seen only once. Whole passages of Donald MacRae's written life story took form in living words. He could not disentangle himself from these Gowers. And he hated them! Dark came down at last. MacRae went out on the porch.
Macrae's kirk and if all you hear anent him be true which I cannot vouch for he is a man well regarded both in kirk and market place that is, he was so regarded until he married again about two years ago. For who, think you, should he marry but a proud upsetting Englishwoman, who was bound to be master and mistress both o'er the hale household?
In a time that was economically awry MacRae's sympathy turned more to those whose struggle was to make a living, or a little more if they could, than to men who already had more than they needed, men who had no use for more money except to pile it up, to keep piling it up. MacRae was neither an idealist nor a philanthropic dreamer. But he knew the under dog of the great industrial scramble.
She shot this question at him with a swift change of tone and an earnestness which straightway drove out of MacRae's mind every consideration save the proper and convincing answer to such intimate questions. "Look," Betty said after a long interval. "Daddy has built a fire on the beach. He does that sometimes, and we sit around it and roast clams in the coals.
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