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Updated: June 14, 2025
Never was such a place as the old Bar-T for folks getting hurt." "Bar-T?" ejaculated the young man, with sudden interest. "Then you must be Miss Rugley, Captain Dan Rugley's daughter?" "Yes, sir," said the girl, quietly. "Captain Rugley is my father." "And you're going to put on that very clever spectacle at the Jackleg schoolhouse next month?
She believed nobody would be astir in the great house. The Chinamen slept at the extreme rear over the kitchen. Their guest, Pratt Sanderson, was on the lower floor and at the opposite side, with his windows opening upon the court around which the hacienda was built. Captain Rugley's rooms were below, too. Frances knew herself to be alone in this part of the house.
She wore a heavy, glittering belt of alternate red-gold links and green stones, and on one arm a massive, wrought-gold bracelet a serpent with turquoise eyes. "Frances is out in her warpaint," chuckled Captain Rugley's mellow voice from the shadow, where he was tipped back in his chair again.
He looked at her, standing there in the after-glow of the sunset, with honest admiration in his eyes. "I am a tenderfoot, I guess," he admitted. "And you were not scared for a single moment!" "Oh, yes, I was," and Frances Rugley's laugh was low and musical. "But it was all over so quickly that the scare didn't have a chance to show. Come on!
She told the chaplain of the soldiers' home that a private car would be supplied for Captain Rugley's old partner to travel in, if it were necessary. She would make all arrangements for transportation immediately upon receiving word from Mr. Tooley that the old man could travel. Haste was important, as she explained.
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