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Updated: May 15, 2025
"But Mac had fell on his feet all right," continued Holt. "He got his start off that claim. Now he's a millionaire two or three times over, I reckon." They reached the outskirts of Kamatlah about noon of the third day. Gordon left Holt at his cabin after they had eaten and went in alone to look the ground over. He met Selfridge at the post-office. That gentleman was effusive in his greeting.
Gordon gave the information without even a flash of mirth in his steady eyes. Selfridge could not quite let the subject alone. "Seems to me I heard he went prospecting." "He did. Up Wild-Goose Creek, with Big Bill Macy and two other men. But I asked him to come back with me and he did." Feebly Wally groped for the clue without finding it. Had Big Bill sold him out?
"Thank ye, Miss," he said; and then to Chauvenet: "Get out!" "Don't trouble about me in the least, Monsieur Chauvenet," and Shirley affirmed the last word with a nod as Chauvenet jumped into his saddle and rode off. When the swift gallop of his horse had carried him out of sight and sound down the road, Shirley faced the mountaineer. "What is your name?" "Tom Selfridge."
He was aware that feeling had focused against him with surprising intensity of resentment, and he suspected that the whispers of Wally Selfridge were largely responsible for this. For Wally saw to it that in the minds of the miners Elliot in his own person stood for the enemies of the open-Alaska policy.
The babbling tongue of Selfridge that had made common gossip of the impending tragedy in which he and Macdonald were the principals his purchase of the automatic his public meeting with two known enemies of the Scotchman, during which he had been seen to give them money his target practice with the new revolver the unhappy chance that had taken him out to Seven-Mile Creek Camp the very day of the robbery his casual questions of the miners even the finding of the body by him.
In the library, in spite of weightier presences, Lawrence Lefferts predominated. The talk, as usual, had veered around to the Beauforts, and even Mr. van der Luyden and Mr. Selfridge Merry, installed in the honorary arm-chairs tacitly reserved for them, paused to listen to the younger man's philippic.
Have you got it? Will you take orders and go through with them?" His hard eyes searched the face of the plump little man. This was a job he would have liked to do himself, but he could not get away just now. Selfridge was the only man about him he could trust with it. Wally nodded. His lips were dry and parched. "Go to it. What am I to do?" "Get Holt out of the way while Elliot is at Kamatlah."
I found him there, and committed Nash to his charge, with the request that he would send him down to Monterey, which he did in the sloop-of-war Dale, Captain Selfridge commanding. I then returned to Monterey by land, and, when the Dale arrived, Colonel Mason and I went on board, found poor old Mr.
Children in parkas and fur coats trooped to school and studied through the short afternoon by the aid of electric light. Dusk fell early and with it came a scatter of more snow. Mrs. Selfridge gave a dinner-dance at the club that night and her guests came in furs of great variety and much value. The hostess outdid herself to make the affair the most elaborate of the season.
If he's here after that, he'd better go heeled, for I'll shoot on sight wherever we meet." Selfridge went on his errand with lagging feet. On the way he stopped at the Pay-Streak Saloon to fortify himself with a cocktail. He found Elliot sitting moodily alone on the porch of the hotel.
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