United States or Guadeloupe ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They had moved fast, covered their traces, and Drew himself could testify that the Yankees were as yet unsuspecting of their presence in the neighborhood. He found General Buford now and reported. "Rennie, see this bend...." The General's finger stabbed down on the sketch map the scouts had prepared days earlier.
And he did not look particularly welcoming. "Mr. Dandy " Drew walked his horse on, Croxton sagging in his hold, his weight a heavy pull on his bearer's tired arms "do you remember me? Drew Rennie, of Red Springs." He added that quickly for what small guarantee of respectability the identification might give. Certainly in his present guise he did not look Alexander Mattock's grandson.
Sir John Rennie spent the last years of his life in writing his Memoirs, a most interesting and useful work, recently published in London, which, I hope, will be republished here. It is just the book for a young fellow who has an ambition to gain honor by serving mankind in a skillful and manly way.
A prospector he had grub-staked, found the Oro Cruz, one of the richest mines in the Tubacca hills. Rennie owned two freighting lines, one carrying goods to California, the other up from Sonora. And his headquarters in the fertile Santa Cruz Valley was a ranch which was also a fort, a fort even the Apaches avoided after they had suffered two overwhelming defeats there.
Drew’s hands balled into fists where they rested on his knees. "Sure you can’t—you never had any!" Spath returned. "I had them. I don’t have them now." What was the use of trying to tell Rennie about his suspicions of Shannon? And if Johnny had destroyed the papers as well he might have, Drew could never make them believe him, anyway. "Kirby, this is serious!" said Rennie.
The Pima slipped ahead with a speed and efficiency of motion his companions envied. He had the two nearest horses in hand, leading them toward the bushes. "Looks like we ride bareback." Anse caught at a hackamore, then mounted. "Move!" Drew waved Running Fox to the other horse. "We can’t wait to get another horse. You ride for the Stronghold, make it straight to Rennie and report.
Anse was stung into angry protest. But Drew was unaware of the Texan’s outburst, his entire attention for Hunt Rennie. The tall man came over to the table, moved one of the candelabra forward as if to throw more light on Drew. "That your choice of solutions, boy—to run?" Drew flushed. The unfairness of that jab pushed him off balance. What did this man want of him anyway?
There were rocks, sand, a body which the horse avoided in a leap, then there was free ground and Drew settled down to ride. A horse was coming up from behind—they need not think they were going to stop him now. Drew turned his head as the mount pulled level with his own. He was ready to fight if need be. Only the man in the saddle was Hunt Rennie.
Their leader, a slender man with dusty gold lace banding his high collar, came directly to Rennie. "Don Cazar." His Spanish was a flood in which Drew was lost almost immediately, but Anse listened with parted lips and then translated a quick account. "This here’s th’ Coronel. He an’ his men was bushwhacked.
And as the time went on, I began to feel that she had some secondary object in coming and in staying: I thought I perceived a kind of diplomatic worldliness in Aunt Rennie, which jarred with my first impression of her. I felt sure that her purpose was in some way connected with Tabitha and John.
Word Of The Day