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Updated: May 4, 2025
Generations of Rutters were behind him this boy was in the direct line connecting the past with the present and on Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, and on no other, rested the responsibility of keeping the glorious name unsmirched. Todd, with one of the dogs at his heels, opened the door for him, smothering a "Gor-a-Mighty! sumpin's up fo' sho'!" when his hand turned the knob.
Their chainmen were ahead of the "cub" engineers on the trail. Tom and Harry were talking earnestly when they heard a pony's hoofs behind them. Hazelton turned with a start. "Oh, it's Rutter mounted," Hazelton said, with a sigh of relief. "I was afraid it was Bad Pete." "Take my word for it, Harry. Peter is a good deal of a coward. He won't dare to show up until he has some real cartridges.
Such quixotic action on the ground of safeguarding the rights of a young drunkard like Willits, who didn't know when he had had enough, might very well do for a self-appointed autocrat like Rutter, she maintained, but some equally respectable people would have him know that they disagreed with him. "Just like Talbot Rutter," she exclaimed in her outspoken, decided way "no sense of proportion.
"Will you tell me what you want?" interrupted Harry, curtly. References to Moorlands invariably roused his ire. "I am coming to that, sir, slowly, but surely. Now that I have found somebody that will listen to me that is, if you are Mr. Harry Rutter " The deferential air with which he said this was admirable. "Oh, yes I'm the man," answered Harry in a resigned voice. "Yes, sir so I supposed.
Rutter wouldn't sell you his land. The lady you really want," she added, pointing with her parasol at the house, "is in there, waiting for you." Mr. Crewe did not reply to this prophecy, but followed Victoria around the house to the group on the lawn, where he bade his hostess a somewhat preoccupied farewell, and bowed distantly to the guests. "He has so much on his mind," said Mrs. Pomfret.
He seemed to be nervously unstrung and for a moment to have lost his self-control. "Stop, St. George!" he thundered. "Stop instantly! Not another word, do you hear me? Don't strain a friendship that has lasted from boyhood or I may forget myself as you have done. No man can tell me what I shall or shall not do when my honor is at stake. Never before has a Rutter disgraced himself and his blood.
Rutter had said "under the Stone" and the vagueness of his words came home to me with considerable force, for the Stone, roughly estimated, was a good mile in length. It paralleled the river, a perpendicular wall of gray sandstone.
He had learned another side of his uncle's character one he should never cease to be grateful for his outspoken defence of him before his equals. Mrs. Rutter half rose from her seat in blank astonishment. She was a frail little woman with pale-blue eyes and a figure like a curl of smoke. "Your father did not speak to you!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You say your father But how dare he!"
If that was not his father's horn it was wonderfully like it. At the same moment a coach-and-four swept in sight, driven by a man in a whitey-brown coat and stiff furry hat, with two grooms behind and a coachman next to him on the box. It was heading straight for the club. Every man was on his feet. "By Jove! it's Rutter. Bowdoin! Clayton! here comes the colonel!"
That is one thing, my dear, a Rutter never violates, no matter what the provocation. I have made a special exception in Mr. Willits's favor to-night and Harry knows it. It was at your dear father's request that I invited the young fellow. And then again, I hear the most delightful things about his own father, who though a plain man is of great service to his county one of Mr.
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