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Updated: June 27, 2025
Pennycook made no reply, for obvious reasons. The sortie for information had been too successful to please her, and in Donna's present mood the elder woman knew that she would fare but poorly in a battle of wits.
"Dan" he said, "I thank you for that. But your missus ain't playin' fair." Pennycook threw up his hands deprecatingly. "I know it" he said, "an' I can't help it." Harley P. laid his hand on the yardmaster's shoulder. "Dan" he said, "me an' you've been good friends, man to man, an' there's just a chance that after to-day we ain't a-goin' to meet no more. You take my compliments to Mrs.
I was married in Bakersfield on the seventeenth day of last October." "Well, then, where's your husband?" "That is a question which you are not privileged to ask, Mrs. Pennycook. However, I will answer it. My husband is about his lawful business somewhere in the Colorado desert." "Who is this man?" "My husband's name is Robert McGraw."
Late in the afternoon he was awakened by a knocking at his door. He sprang out of bed and unlocked the door, and Dan Pennycook came into the room. "Hello, Dan" the gambler greeted him. "You look worried." "You would too, if you knew what I know" replied Pennycook. He sat down. "Harley, old man, you've laid violent hands on a mighty hard character."
Pennycook was so long on virtue and character herself that half her life was spent disposing of a portion of these attributes to the less fortunate members of her household. She entered now upon a calm yet stern discussion of the perfectly impossible proceeding of making a private cemetery out of one's back yard; but Mr.
"A-a-h-h-h!" breathed Mrs. Pennycook. She understood now. What a baggage the girl was! How heartless, begrudging her poor dead mother the poor comfort of a Christian burial, because she wanted the money for herself! Privately Mrs. Pennycook prophesied a bad ending for Donnie Corblay.
The deputy county clerk was a friend of Bob McGraw's and as he had promised not to give him away, he would keep his word; so he snickered to himself and wondered if this acidulous lady could, by any chance, be McGraw's mother-in-law. If so, he felt sorry for McGraw. He sniffed a quick divorce. Mrs. Pennycook could not find the record she sought, and demanded further information.
The drawling words fell on the gossip like a rain of blows. Her eyelids grew suddenly red and watery. "It ain't a man's trick to hammer you like this, Mrs. Pennycook," the gambler continued, almost sadly, "but for a lady that's livin' in a glass house, you're too fond o' chuckin' stones, an' it's got to stop.
Pennycook received equally irrelevant and impersonal replies, and when she suggested at length that she "would dearly love to see him for a moment only a moment, mind you to thank him for what he had done for that dear sweet girl, Donna Corblay," the nurse found instant defense from the invasions by reminding Mrs.
Pennycook had recovered his poise and decided that here was one of those rare occasions when it behooved him to declare himself by the way, a very rare proceeding with Mr. Pennycook, he being known in San Pasqual as the original Mr. Henpeck. "Mrs. Pennycook," he thundered, "you will please 'tend to your own business, ma'am.
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