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Updated: June 9, 2025
I see things clear now.... Joan Randle, it's my life or your soul!" He rose now, dark, shaken, stripped of all save the truth. Joan dropped the gun from nerveless grasp. "Is that your choice?" he asked hoarsely. "I can't murder you!" "Are you afraid of the other men of Gulden? Is that why you can't kill me? You're afraid to be left to try to get away?" "I never thought of them."
When she recovered enough for the thickness to leave her sight she saw Kells coming, leading her horse and his own. At sight of him a strange, swift heat shot through her. Then she was confounded with the thought of Roberts. "Ro Roberts?" she faltered. Kells gave her a piercing glance. "Miss Randle, I had to take the fight out of your friend," he said. "You you Is he dead?"
Joan Randle reined in her horse on the crest of the cedar ridge, and with remorse and dread beginning to knock at her heart she gazed before her at the wild and looming mountain range. "Jim wasn't fooling me," she said. "He meant it. He's going straight for the border... Oh, why did I taunt him!"
Now -the next Andrew Randle, you are a new man, I hear. How come you to leave your last farm?" "P-p-p-p-p-pl-pl-pl-pl-l-l-l-l-ease, ma'am, p-p-p-p-pl-pl- pl-pl-please, ma'am-please'm-please'm " "'A's a stammering man, mem." said Henery Fray in an undertone, "and they turned him away because the only time he ever did speak plain he said his soul was his own, and other iniquities, to the squire.
That she did not know it herself he had been told by old Randle, who yet knew more of her history and the tragedy of her later life than any one else.
Randle Holme, in his 'Academy of Arms and Blazon, includes them in his descriptions, as a class of vagabonds 'feigning themselves mad. 'The Bedlam is in the same garb, with a long staff, etc., 'but his cloathing is more fantastic and ridiculous; for being a madman, he is madly decked and dressed all over with rubans, feathers, cuttings of cloth, and what not, to make him seem a madman, when he is no other than a dissembling knave.
The bodies are stiffly pointed, and the most noticeable feature of the gown is the sleeve, consisting of a double puff drawn in just above the elbow and confined by knots of ribbon; in one case with very narrow ribbon loops. Randle Holme says that a sleeve thus tied in at the elbow was called a virago sleeve.
"Roberts, haven't you a wife children?" "Yes, I have," shouted Roberts, huskily. "An' that wife would disown me if I left Joan Randle to you. An' I've got a grown girl. Mebbe some day she might need a man to stand between her an' such as you, Jack Kells!" All Roberts' pathos and passion had no effect, unless to bring out by contrast the singular and ruthless nature of Jack Kells.
In her smooth, brown right hand she grasped the handle of a polished walking-stick, her left arm she held across her bosom the hand was missing from the wrist. "How do you do, sir?" she said in clear English, as, giving her stick to Kate Randle, she held out her hand to the supercargo. "I am so glad that you have come to see me. You are Mr. Denison, I know. Is Captain Packenham quite well?
Scattergood gave the matter his best thought, then polished the buggy as aforesaid, and called. "Howdy, Miss Randle?" said he, tying to her hitching post. "Howdy, Mr. Baines?" "I calculated," said he, "that, bein' as it's a hot night, a buggy ride might sort of cool you off, after a way of speakin'."
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