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Updated: June 27, 2025
Pennycook called, but the nurse received her not, however, without an inward chuckle as she recalled Mr. Hennage's warning and discovered that Mrs. Pennycook's mouth did really resemble a new buttonhole as the mouth of every respectable, self-righteous, provincial female bigot has had a habit of resembling even as far back as the days of the Salem witchcraft. For her wine jelly, Mrs.
But there is a superstition rampant in all provincial communities which dictates that the first line of action to be pursued when there is a death in the family is to scrub the house thoroughly from cellar to garret, and Mrs. Pennycook had been inoculated with the virus of this superstition very early in life.
Hennage sought the yardmaster out in his desire for explicit information touching the hint of trouble to Donna conveyed in the letter which Pennycook had sent him. "Her husband ain't never showed up, an' there ain't no record of her marriage license in the county clerk's office." "How d'ye know there ain't?" the gambler demanded. "Ee er well, the fact is, Harley, Mrs. Pennycook "
Hennage lived in an atmosphere of money, where everybody fought to get his money away from him and where he fought to get theirs; hence finances were ever his first thought. As for Donna, she did not think it necessary that she should express a contrary opinion regarding Dan Pennycook. She said: "Why didn't you come to the counter at once and say hello?"
"The dangerous Mr. O'Rourke. Tell him from me he'd better go back to the borax works at Keeler, where he got his nickname, an' take up his old job o' skinnin' mules. Tell him I'll loan him that roan pony in the corral, an' he can saddle up an' git. Tell him to send the little horse back with the stage-driver. I want him to ride out tonight, Dan. Tell him it's an order." Pennycook nodded.
"Son, take me to my room in the hotel. I'm a dog with a bad name, but I don't want to die in the street." Dan Pennycook, at his work among the strings of empty box-cars across the track, had heard the shooting; had seen the crowd leave the porch of the Silver Dollar saloon and surge out into the street.
"O Mr. Pennycook, dear Mr. Pennycook" she wailed, and sought instant refuge on his honest breast. She placed her arms around his neck and cried, and Mr. Pennycook cried also, until his single Sunday handkerchief was used up whereat he pleaded dumbly with his wife for her handkerchief and was refused. So, like some great blubbering boy, he used his fists, while Mrs.
In fact, the gossip amused her very much, and in the knowledge of the day of reckoning coming to Mrs. Pennycook she could afford to laugh. "What does Dan think about it?" "Mr. Pennycook, if you please" corrected his wife. "We will not mention his name in this matter." "Well, then, what do you think of it, Mrs. Pennycook?"
Pennycook unctuously, "it's kind o' hard- like to tell whether, in your present er delicate condition, you're better off unmarried-like, or the wife of a man accused of holdin' up a stage at Garlock." "It is embarrassing, isn't it?" Donna laughed. She was not in the least angry with Mrs. Pennycook.
Pennycook that the record of the issuance of a license to his friend Bob McGraw and Donna Corblay could be found in the back of the book, where it would not be discovered by the newspaper reporters who came each day to make notations of the licenses issued.
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