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Updated: May 24, 2025
The sleigh flew on up the hill, but she turned once more to look behind her, and he still had his hat in his hand, the snowflakes falling on his bared head. Then he was aware that James Redbrook was gazing at him curiously. "That's Flint's daughter, ain't it?" inquired the member from Mercer. "Didn't callate you'd know her." Austen flushed. He felt exceedingly foolish, but an answer came to him.
Tooting, who makes it a point from time to time to reconnoitre, saunters halfway down-stairs and surveys the crowded rotunda from the landing. Thomas Gaylord beside that of Mr. Redbrook and other rural figures; he takes note of a quiet corner with a ring of chairs surrounded by scouts and outposts, although it requires a trained eye such as Mr.
The House listened and looked on entranced, as though they were the spectators to a tragedy. And indeed it seemed as though they were. Necks were craned to see Mr. Harper; he didn't look like a hero, but one never can tell about these little men. He had hurled defiance at the Northeastern Railroads, and that was enough for Mr. Redbrook and Mr.
They left him, impressed by the force of this argument, with an added respect for Mr. Crewe, and a vague feeling that they were pledged to something which made not a few of them a trifle uneasy. Mr. Redbrook was one of these. The felicitations of his new-found friend and convert, Mr. Tooting, Mr. Crewe cut short with the terseness of a born commander.
"Wanted they should know you," said Mr. Redbrook. "They've all heard of you and what you did for Zeb." Austen flushed. He was aware that he was undergoing a cool and critical examination by those present, and that they were men who used all their faculties in making up their minds. "I'm very glad to meet any friends of yours, Mr. Redbrook," he said. "What I did for Meader isn't worth mentioning.
"I met her in the hospital. She used to go there to see Zeb Meader." "That's so," said Mr. Redbrook; "Zeb told me about it, and she used to come to Mercer to see him after he got out. She ain't much like the old man, I callate." "I don't think she is," said Austen.
Emerson of Oxford, who had a blacksmith's grip, and came back to renew it after he had put on his overshoes. He was the last to linger, and when the door had closed on him Austen turned to Mr. Redbrook. "Now what does all this mean?" he demanded. "It means," said Mr. Redbrook, "that when the time comes, we want you to run for governor."
Redbrook, the head of the school, took the chair; while on the table before him, as a sign of his office and authority, a small hand-bell was placed, which he was supposed to ring when, in the heat and excitement of debate, members so far forgot themselves as to need a gentle reminder of the rule relating to silence.
It appears that he had seen me," Victoria replied, "when I went to Mercer to call on Zeb Meader. And he asked me if I knew you." "Of course you denied it," said Austen. "I couldn't, very well," laughed Victoria, "because you had confessed to the acquaintance first." "He merely wished to have the fact corroborated. Mr. Redbrook is a man who likes to be sure of his ground."
"James Redbrook," he said, "until to-night I thought you were about as long-headed and sensible a man as there was in the State." "So I be," replied Mr. Redbrook, with a grin. "You ask young Tom Gaylord." "So Tom put you up to this nonsense." "It ain't nonsense," retorted Mr. Redbrook, stoutly, "and Tom didn't put me up to it. It's the' best notion that ever came into my mind."
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