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Updated: June 25, 2025
He was for violent measures but Laramie calmed him. "If they've got any of my cattle, they won't run away," said he, "and they won't blow up. They'll keep, and I'll get them back every hoof. I'm riding home this morning, anyway, so I'll be over after my horse in a minute." McAlpin went away somewhat disappointed.
So, until the summer when she was fourteen, Priscilla Glenn knew less about the Far Hill people than she did about the inhabitants of heaven and hell, with whom her father was upon such intimate and familiar terms. Once, when Priscilla was ten, something had occurred which prepared her for following events. It was a bright morning and the McAlpin boat stopped at the wharf of Lonely Farm.
"And yet," mused Tutt, "only last week Judge McAlpin granted the petition of one Solomon Swackhamer to change his name to Phillips Brooks Vanderbilt. Is that right? Is that justice? Is it equity? I ask you! when he turns down the Fat and Skinnies?" "Oh, yes it is," retorted Mr. Tutt. "When you consider that Mr.
The park glistened: the tender new green on tree, bush, and grass looked as if it had just been polished, and the early flowers stood crisply on their young stalks. At the point where once she had met poor Jerry-Jo McAlpin, Priscilla paused and was taken into control by memory and the long-ago Past. Quite unaccountably, she longed to have her mother, even her father, know of her wellbeing.
He'd go first to old Jerry's, and then afterward, an hour, maybe, for it would be hard for Jerry McAlpin he would go to Lonely Farm by way of the wood path that led by the shrine in the open place was the skull still there with the long-dead grasses in its ears? It would be night, perhaps, when the master reached the farm; maybe the star would be shining over the hemlock
McAlpin on his way uptown from the barn, had stopped at Belle's a moment for shelter. "I'll tell you, Kate," said Belle, after listening as patiently as she could to what Kate had to say about the Falling Wall fight and its consequences, "I like you. I can't help liking you. But the only reason you talk the way you do is because you haven't lived in this country long.
Presently words that McAlpin was saying came to her in the black stillness of her consciousness. "I had to have you! Now that I've shown you my power, I can wait until you come whining to me. I ain't going to hurt you! I want you as you are when you come a-begging of me. I only wanted to prove to you that I've got you!"
Jerry and Michael McAlpin, with little Jerry-Jo, the son of old Jerry, were vital factors in Kenmore. They occupied the exalted position of rural expressmen, and distributed, when various things did not interfere, the occasional freight and mail that survived the careless methods of the vicinity. The McAlpin brothers were hard drinkers, but they were most considerate.
McAlpin, swearing and protesting, could in the end only offer to go see whether he could by any chance find Laramie. After a long trip through the winding alleys of the big barn for Kate watched the baseball cap and crazy vizor as long as she could follow it then complete disappearance for a time, McAlpin came back to Kate, immovable at the office door, his face wreathed with a surprised smile.
At that particular stretch of the road it would be less nerve-wearing to ride beside it a way. He overtook the wagon and to his surprise found McAlpin on the box. McAlpin, overjoyed to see him, explained with a grin he was filling in for a sick man.
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