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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Your mother died two years ago from heart trouble. Your uncle, Philip Dawson, also is dead." Rand's jaw set. The others shifted their gaze and busied themselves with making new cigarettes, spending much time over the simple task. "Poor mother!" Rand said, huskily. "Uncle Phil he was a good old scout. And I was here buried alive only half alive!
Kootanie George glared at Rand and gathered in the cards. He understood as did Ernestine and the others at the table the gibe which lay under Rand's words. The American's fancies, too, had run toward Ernestine Dumont not so long ago, and she had not deigned to take notice of him after the coming of Kootanie. "Mexican gent, huh?" said George slowly. "If you mean Greaser why don't you say Greaser?"
We three Merry, Tim, and I came here to find you. The settlement of the Dawson estate hinges on you." "On me? How? I've no claim to it. Paul Dawson, Uncle Phil's son " "Is dead, too. Killed in action in the Argonne, You're next in line." McKay watched him keenly. So did Knowlton. The half-expected jubilance did not come. "So Paul's gone," was Rand's reply. "Hard luck.
It is told that the storm abated near to the ships while it still roared wildly some distance away from them. The lashed waves stood like a wall on either side, leaving a track of calm water, through which the vessels sailed. When at last King Olaf came abreast of Rand's stronghold he saw the viking's dragonship lying at anchor in the bay.
He was Rand's assistant, and also Kathie's lover. He was five or six years older than his employer, and slightly built. His hair, fighting a stubborn rearguard action against baldness, was an indeterminate mousy gray-brown.
On the porch to welcome them they found the white man who worked on shares and oversaw the farm, Joab and three other slaves of Rand's, Mammy Chloe, Hannah, and the negro men who belonged to Jacqueline. These gave a noisy greeting. Rand put money into the hands of the slaves and sent them away happy to the tumble-down quarter behind the house.
Joab and the culprit Selim went on Rand's errands to the town and to the home on the Three-Notched Road. Mammy Chloe, in white apron and kerchief and coloured turban, presented herself with a curtsy, delivered kindly messages from the ladies of the house, and sat down with her sewing in the little adjoining room.
"It falls in with what Gaudylock suspected," said Rand's measured voice behind him, "and it all dates back to the nineteenth of February. When he left the house that night, he must have known " "Of whom are you talking?" asked Tom at the fire. "Major Edward?" "No, not Major Edward. And now he is using his knowledge. She told me to-day that he was often at Fontenoy.
He sent it to me by a private messenger, with a note asking me to do him the friendly service to place it directly in Mr. Rand's hand. I have it with me, as I thought I might meet Mr. Rand here." "He will hardly return before Wednesday. When he comes, I will give him the letter with pleasure."
In Rand's dining-room the three men sat late over the wine and the questions that had brought them together, but at last the conference was somewhat stormily over. Burr and Adam Gaudylock left the house together, the hunter volunteering to guide the stranger to his inn. It was midnight, and Colonel Burr did not see his hostess.
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