Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 1, 2025
"Don't like the looks of that," said Brevoort, as he pulled up his horse. "It's out in front of the 'dobe and it means the Ortez has got company." "Soldiers?" "Looks like it." "Arguilla's men?" "I reckon so. And they're up pretty clost to the line too clost to suit me. We'll ride round and do our talkin' with Ortez." "Ain't they friendly?" queried Pete. "Friendly, hell!
At first I upbraided him fiercely, but a frightful gash across his head, dabbling his gray hairs in blood, stopped my wrath. On the ride home he told me of the day's disaster. Pedro Ortez and his cut-throats had set upon them in the name of the church. He was soon cut down and left upon the street, recovering consciousness only to find his murdered mistress lying dead beside him.
She directed the men. This was a woman's hellish work. Ortez rose with studied politeness: "Your wife and child, d'Artin; our charming family reunion would be incomplete without them." And the woman laughed aloud. My brain burned; something seemed to strain and give way. I lost all sense of pain, all capacity to suffer. How long this lasted I know not.
While Deweese finished curbing the well in which Ortez lost his life, I sawed off and cut new threads on all the rods and piping belonging to that particular windmill. With a tireless energy for one of his years, Uncle Lance rode the range, until he could have told at a distance one half his holdings of cattle by flesh marks alone.
The men were bandits who had robbed the paymaster of the Ortez Mines. To Waring there was nothing complicated about the matter. It was his day's work. The morning sun would be in their faces, but that was not his fault. As Waring waited in the arroyo the faint clatter of shod hoofs came from above. He drew close to a cutbank, leaning his shoulder against it easily.
When the noisy troop rode up to the gates of Cartillon their leader paused, a head appeared upon the battlements. "Guise," cried Ortez, giving the watchword of that day of slaughter. The drawbridge lowered, and open swung the gates. "Welcome to Cartillon, d'Artin," Ortez bowed. "Here at last we find rest and refreshment. Let a feast be spread in the great hall, ransack the place for good cheer.
Though she concealed her anger, there grew between them a continuous straining born out of mutual misunderstanding and a great submerged tangle of emotions. One morning when Ortez in snow-shoes and fur had gone for the day to look after his traps, Claire washed up the tin dishes they used, and sat down before the fire opposite Lawrence. His head was in his hands and his face was somber.
"Yes John Archibald Weston, of New York." And Mrs. Weston nodded. Waring smiled. J.A. Weston was one of the stockholders in the Ortez Mine, near Sonora. "The principal stockholder," said Mrs. Weston. "I met him down there," said Waring. "Indeed! How interesting! You were connected with the mining industry, Mr. Waring?" "In a way. I lived in Sonora several years."
Arguilla, who was to keep out of sight, had told Ortez to pay the amount stipulated by Brent and at the old established rate of twenty dollars a head which meant that upon receipt of the cattle Ortez would give the foreman of the Olla four thousand dollars in gold. Ortez knew that Arguilla contemplated killing Brent and his men and recovering the money.
"But real freedom of being lies in her dependence on me as the head of the house," Philip protested. "If you happen to be the head of the house," Lawrence added jestingly. "But I would be the head of the house. It is my right and my duty." "Poor Mrs. Ortez, if there ever is one," Lawrence continued, joking. "She is to be guarded by a great, aggressive, possessing husband.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking