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Updated: June 4, 2025
Packard's story, Miss Thankful had come running across the alley and through this very place to astound her sister and nephew in the drawing-room with the news of the large legacy destined so soon to be theirs. That was two years ago, and to-day I proceeded no further with what was in my mind, for my interest was centered in the closet whose door Miss Charity had just flung open.
Packard's chances could be affected by by anything that might be said about me? You saw, or heard us say, at least, that my name had been mentioned in the morning paper in a way not altogether agreeable to us. It was false, of course, but " She started, and her work fell from her hands. The door-bell had rung and we could hear Nixon in the hall hastening to answer it.
"Mama dear!" she cried, "mama dear!" and the tender emphasis on the endearing word completed the charm. Tears sprang to Mrs. Packard's eyes, and it was with difficulty that she passed the clinging child over to the nurse waiting to take her out. "That was the happiest moment of my life!" fell unconsciously from Mrs.
But Royce, though his lips twitched, was firm. "I don't know the men any too well either," he said. "They're all your grandfather's hirin'. But they're all live an' they all know the game. I won't swear as to how far you can trust any one of 'em; but you'll have to find that out for yourself as we go on." "Name one of them for me," was Packard's quiet way of accepting his old foreman's ultimatum.
Packard's eyes opened wide with horror. She seized the paper and staggered with it to one of the windows. While she looked at it, I cast a glance at Letty. She was crying, from what looked like pure fear; but it was the fear of ignorance rather than duplicity; she appeared as much mystified as ourselves.
He's the only one left, and from the looks of things he'll keep on living and making trouble another hundred years." "There was another Packard, wasn't there?" he insisted. "Phil Packard's son, the old man's grandson?" "Never knew him," said Terry. "A scamp and a scalawag and a tomfool, though, if you want to know.
You've done the trick twice; do I have to look out for you every time I take the car out?" "I just happen to be in a hurry," said Packard. "And going your way. Somebody shot my horse back there for me." Her eyes grew actually round; Iki shivered audibly. But in the girl's case the emotion aroused by Packard's words was short-lived. Why should a man shoot the horse under Steve Packard?
He passed on, swung into the little-used trail which brought him first to the McKittrick cabin where a double-barrelled shot-gun six months ago had brought Bill Royce his blindness; then to the lumber-camp a mile further on. Both were on the bank of Packard's Creek; the flume constructed by Joe Woods's men followed the line of the stream.
All looked equally unpromising, unless it was Mayor Packard's study, and that no one with the exception of Mr. Steele ever entered save by his invitation, not even his wife. I could not hope to cross that threshold, nor did I greatly desire to invade the kitchen, especially while Nixon was there. Should I have to wait till the mayor's return for the cooperation my task certainly demanded?
"A man can win a jack pot on a pair of deuces, if he plays the game right!" At this point Packard's Creek is narrow; the distance between the spot where he stood and the door of the cook-shed was not over forty feet. He shifted Woods's gun to his left hand, taking into his right Blenham's old-style revolver which was more to his fancy.
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