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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Very well but I had no intention of touching it," said Mrs. Mallathorpe. "All I want is to see it and read it." She obediently followed out Pratt's instructions, and standing in front of her he produced the will, unfolded it, and held it at a convenient distance before her eyes. He watched her closely, as she read it, and he saw her grow very pale.
Good-night, Miss Frances," said Pratt, and withdrew into his room, from which he had appeared so suddenly to accost her. Pratt's mention of "the bird on the roof" disturbed Frances a good deal. She turned to run back upstairs and learn if the ladder was still hanging from the eaves. But as she started to do so she realized that the door of the treasure room had been silently opened. "Frances!"
It was touching and warm-hearted, and it was rendered a little solemn by Mary Pratt's putting into her lover's hand a pocket-bible, with an earnest request that he would not forget to consult its pages. She added, at the same time, that she had carefully marked those passages which she wished him most to study and reflect on.
The party arrived at the ranch-house Mr. Tooley and all after daybreak. The Captain had insisted upon Pratt's going, too. "What?" Lonergan demanded. "You a bank clerk, looking out through the wires of a cage like a monkey in the Zoo we saw years ago at Kansas City?" "That is a nice job for your nephew, hey Lon?" put in the Captain. "Drop it, boy, drop it.
And for some months they and their mother had been safely installed at Normandale Grange, and in full possession of the dead man's wealth and business. All this flashed through Linford Pratt's mind in a few seconds he knew all the story: he had often thought of the extraordinary good fortune of those young people.
From this public test of her power Viola still shrank, but Pratt's wealth and power, which Clarke continually emphasized, fairly stunned her into acquiescence. So far from being a faith of the poor, the obscure, a faith that lurked in dark corners, avoiding the direct gaze of men, spiritualism from the portals of a resplendent temple appeared to be not merely respectable but triumphant.
The people settled back in their seats, uneasily; they strangely avoided the eye of their pastor. It rested in its slow survey of the flock upon Deacon Pratt's empty pew. And at that moment a strange thing occurred. Why it should seem strange was, perhaps, not the least strange part of it. Jack had come in alone before. He knew the trick of the door-latch, and had often opened it unaided.
"I'm telling you," Pratt's voice replied, and Frances saw that it was the girl next to him who had asked the question. "I'm telling you that all the calves and young stock have to be branded." "Branded?" "Yes. They belong to the Bar-T, you see; therefore, the Bar-T mark has to be burned on them." "Just fancy!" exclaimed the girl in the red coat.
"By the way," called Pratt, from his saddle and holding in his pony, "your father being so ill isn't going to make you give up your part in the pageant, Frances?" "Plenty of time for that," she returned, but without smiling. "I hope father will be well before the date set for the show." Pratt's departure left Frances with a sinking heart; but she did not betray her feelings.
I want mamma to take an apartment over here on the Park. I love the Park, although it makes me homesick for the West sometimes." "If you do decide to take an apartment, consult Kate. What she doesn't know of New York isn't lady-like for any one to know. Frankly, Mrs. Lambert, I should be very glad to see you get away from Pratt's house.
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