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Updated: June 22, 2025
Be sure was some het up about you." Sanderson did not answer. He turned his back to the jailer and walked to the cot, again sitting on its edge. He heard the jailer sniff contemptuously, but he paid no attention to him. Prominent in Sanderson's thoughts was the realization that Dale had taken his money. He knew that was the last of it Dale would not admit taking it.
No better proof could be adduced of the excellent management of Mr. Sanderson's department. The sport on 1st April had raised my expectations, but I quickly discovered that it was an exceptional day, and that the rule would be disappointing.
It happens I made that stain myself on the round-up onct when we were wrastling and I knocked the coffeepot over." Keller looked at his friend gravely. "It was Phil Sanderson's hat?" Yeager nodded assent. "He must have loaned his old hat to Spiker for the holdup." "You didn't turn the hat over to the sheriff?" "Not so as you could notice it.
I used to feel it particularly, I remember, in India; in Canadian woods as well; but never in little English woods till here. And Sanderson's the only man I ever knew who felt it too. He's never said so, but there's the proof," and he turned again to the picture that he loved. A thrill of unaccustomed life ran through him as he looked.
A topsy-turvy sign at the intersection announced that Wade Street was ahead. Emma Sanderson's grandson lived a couple of blocks down the road. Only the fact that she could hear someone inside moving about kept the interviewer hammering on the door. Finally she was rewarded by a voice. "Is that somebody a' knockin'?" In a moment the door opened.
"I kept my eye on her every minute of the time, to see that there wasn't no shenanigans," Collins informed Dundee and Sanderson importantly, callous to the fact that the maid could hear him. "But I let her bring along everything she said she needed to lay the body out in.... Was that right?" "Right!" agreed the district attorney, as Dundee opened the suitcase upon Sanderson's desk.
Again her eyes grew wide with fright, and Sanderson saw her looking at the other girl he saw the other girl stiffen and stand straight, her lips curving scornfully as she returned Miss Bransford's gaze. Sanderson's lips straightened. And now for the first time he gravely inspected the faces in the group near him.
Sanderson's great innocence and sincerity, and that he and his family were brought into a low condition by his not complying with the Parliament's injunctions, sent him by his dear friend Dr. Barlow the now learned Bishop of Lincoln 50l. and with it a request and promise.
Miss Bransford looked around appealingly; first at the pale, anemic little man with big eyes, who shifted his feet and looked uncomfortable; then her gaze went to Sanderson who, resting his left elbow on the pommel of the saddle, was watching her with squinting, quizzical eyes. There was an appeal in Miss Bransford's glance that made the blood leap to Sanderson's face.
This time it was a cold sweat, and it came with the realization that discovery was again imminent, for if, as Mary had said, she had kept Sanderson's letter to her father, there were in existence two letters his own and Will Bransford's inevitably in different handwriting, both of which he had claimed to have written. Sanderson groaned. The more he lied the deeper he became entangled.
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