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Updated: June 25, 2025
He grinned at my make-up, and then at me. "Clever little girl," he says through his nose. "How much do you stick Obermuller for?" "Clever little man," say I, bold as brass and through my own nose; "none of your business." "Hi you, Olden!" roared Obermuller, as though I'd run away and he was trying to get the bit from between my teeth. "Answer the gentleman prettily.
Oh, what could I do, Maggie, with him there and his arms ready for me! "I I should think you'd be afraid," I whispered. I didn't dare look at him. He caught me to him then. "Afraid you wouldn't care for an old fellow like me?" he laughed. "Yes, that's the only fear I had. But I lost it, Nancy, Nancy Obermuller, when you flung that paper down before me.
Yes, there it was, just as Obermuller had vowed it was, with Tausig's cramped little signature followed by Heffelfinger's, Dixon's and Weinstock's; a scheme to crush the business life out of men by the cleverest, up-to-date Trust deviltry; a thing that our Uncle Sammy just won't stand for. And neither will Nancy Olden, Miss Monahan.
A little beggar like you to refuse an offer from the T. T. and sit hatching your schemes on your little old 'steen dollars a week! ... It'll have to be twice 'steen, now, I suppose?" "All right, just as you say," I laughed. "But why aren't you in the Trust, Fred Obermuller?" "Why aren't you in society, Nance?" "Um! well, because society's prejudiced against lifting, but the Trust isn't.
I tried the Beryl story lots of ways on myself, but somehow, every time I fancied myself telling it to Obermuller, it got tangled up and lay dumb and heavy inside of me. But at least it would be better to appear of my own will before the old Englishman than be discovered by Lord Gray and his Lady. I had my fingers on the curtains, and in another second I'd been out when
No; not quite. In order to kill all hope of a new plan in me they've just let it get to be understood that any man or woman that works for Obermuller needn't come round to them at any future time." "Phew! A blacklist." "Not anything so tangible. It's just a hint, you know, but it works all right. It works like " "What are you going to do; what can you do?" "Shoot Tausig or myself, or both of us."
And I stood there like a demure little kitten; or more like Mag Monahan after she'd had a good licking, and was good and quiet. And I never so much as budged till Obermuller said: "Well, Nance, you have earned it. The gall of you! But it only proves that Fred Obermuller never yet bought a gold brick. Only, let me in on your racket next time. There, go on take it. It's yours."
"What is it you want me to do, Nance?" Obermuller asked. "Get him away on a steamer quick," I murmured I couldn't look him in the face "without asking why, or what his name is." He turned to Tom. "Well?" "I won't go not without her." "Because you're so fond of her, eh? So fond, your first thought on quitting the country was to come here to get her in trouble. If you've been traced " "Ah!
And Miss Olden is a friend of mine. If you can prove that she took this money, you prove only that she's gone mad, but you don't " "All right, Obermuller. You're not the lawyer for the defense. That'll come later if it does come. I'll be glad to bear in mind all you've said, and much that you haven't." "Thank you. Good night.... I'll wait for you, Nance, outside."
Obermuller took it and tore it open. He smiled the oddest smile as he read it, and he threw back his head and laughed a full, hearty bellow when he got to the end. "Read it, Nance," he said, passing it over to me. "They sent it on from the office." I read it. "Mr.
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