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Updated: June 11, 2025
So did I! We should be friends," she said, and, smiling, held out her hand. Tom Osby took it. "Ma'am," said he, gravely, "I'm right glad to see you. I've not been back home for a good many years. I've been all over." "Nor have I been home," said she, sadly. "I've been all over, too. But now, what brought you here? Tell me, did you want to see me?" "Yes!" Tom Osby answered simply.
The droop at the corners of her mouth faded away. She slid down off the blanket roll and edged along across the ground until she sat at his side. She reached out her hand for the skillet. "That spider isn't clean in the least," said she. "Oh, well," apologized Tom Osby, leaning back against the wagon wheel and beginning to fill a pipe.
"Now," went on Tom Osby, "things happens fast out here. If I come and set in your parlor in New York, it takes me eight years to learn the name of your pet dog. Lady comes out and sets in my parlor for eight minutes, and I ain't such a fool but what I can learn a heap of things in that time. That don't mean necessary that I'm goin' to tell any other fellow what I may think.
Do you know anything about this house here? It's the first one as you go into town from the lower end of the valley." Dan Anderson bent over the map. "Yes, I know it perfectly," said he. "That's the adobe of our friend Tom Osby here, the man who came down with me from Heart's Desire. He just went up the trail with your daughter, sir." "The yards'll wipe him out," said Barkley.
If you won't go back and live in the States, we will have to bring the States to you; and they'll follow mighty quick when the railroad comes, as you know very well." "My friend Tom Osby used those very words this morning, when he heard the whistle of your esteemed railroad train." "Precisely," Ellsworth went on. "We'll give you a town to live in. We'll give you professional work to do."
Now, allowin' I did take one more chanct, and make up to that oldest girl, we'd look fine, wouldn't we, takin' a weddin' trip in this here wagon, and not on no railroad!" Constance was smiling now. "I've got her gentled and comin' along right easy now," thought Tom Osby to himself. "I knowed a feller up in Vegas onct," he went on, "got married and went plumb to New York, towering around.
At last the line of the bivouacs ended, far up toward the crest of the heavily timbered Sacramentos, after a weary climb through miles of mountain cañons. "We'll stop at the lowest spring," said Tom Osby, who knew the country of old. "That'll leave us a half mile or so from where they've built their fool log hotel.
Curly sat and looked at him in silence for a few minutes, but at last a light seemed to dawn upon him. "Oh, I see," said he, smiling broadly. "You mean for us to get up a letter for him write it out and send it, like he done it hisself." Tom Osby nodded. "Of course that's the only way. There wouldn't either of them write to the other one.
"That is, countin' years, and not experience." "I'm just about forty-five," said Tom, "countin' both." "Well, she came from Georgia " "And so did I," observed Tom Osby, casually. Dan Anderson was troubled. His horizon was wider than Tom Osby's. "It's far, Tom," said he; "it's very far." "I everidge about twenty mile a day," said Tom, not wholly understanding. "I can make it in less'n a week."
"As to that shanty down below, at the head of the cañon," growled Barkley, pointing to Tom Osby's adobe, "that's going to be the first thing we'll tear down, street or no street. We need that place for our depot yard, and we're going to take it. Besides, there was something about that Osby fellow I didn't like when we met him over at Sky Top. He's too damned independent to suit me."
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