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Updated: May 22, 2025
'Pete ter holp dig an' tote ef the box be heavy. An' you ter find out edzac'ly whar it be hid. You uns an' Loralindy hev been keepin' company right smart, an' ye kin toll Loralindy along till she lets slip jes' whar that lily air growin'. I'll be bound ez she likes ye a sight better 'n that Renfrow leastwise ef 't warn't fur his letter, honeyin' her up with complimints, an' she hevin' the chance o' tollin' him on through doin' him sech faviors, savin' his life, an' now his money shucks it's mo' our money 'n his'n; 't ain 't his 'n!
As Rufe Kinnicutt approached a little log cabin nestling in a sheltered cove he realized that a year had gone by since Renfrow had seen it first, and that thus it must have appeared when he beheld it. The dew was bright on the slanting roof, and the shadow of oak trees wavered over it. The mountain loomed above.
"Por Dios! you can't touch him with a million." I'd like to take that record back and show it to Billy Renfrow some day; and that tightens my grip whenever I see a fat thing that I could corral just by winking one eye and losing my graft. By , they can't monkey with me. They know it. What money I get I make honest and spend it. Some day I'll make a pile and go back and eat caviare with Billy.
"This hyar feller this Renfrow he called her in the letter 'My dear friend' he did an' lowed he hed a right ter the word, fur ef ever a man war befriended he hed been. He lowed ez he could never fur-get her. An' Lord! how it tickled old man Bates ter read them sentiments the pride-ful old peacock!
Gol-darn the insurance o' this Renfrow! His idee is ter keep the money his own self, an' make her sen' it ter him. Then 'Good-bye, Chilhowee Lily!" The night had come at last, albeit almost as bright as day, but with so ethereal, so chastened a splendor that naught of day seemed real.
"Ye 'lowed ter me ez ye never keered nuthin' fur that man, Renfrow," he said with a plaintive appeal, far more powerful with her than scorn. She looked up at him with candid reassuring eyes. "I never keered none fur him," she protested. "He kem hyar all shot up, with the miners an' mounting boys hot foot arter him an' we done what we could fur him.
It was a moment of tense suspense. But it was not Crann's policy to tantalize him further, however much the process might address itself to his peculiar interpretation of pleasure. "That thar pay agent o' the mining company," he explained, "he hed some sort'n comical name oh, I remember now, Renfrow Paul Renfrow waal ye know he war shot in the knee when the miners way-laid him."
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