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Updated: May 12, 2025
"And keep off, too!" he shouted grimly. "Tell your lawyer, tell your sheriff, tell 'em all, keep off!" "It's impossible!" Roger was too stunned to grasp the true significance of the situation at once. "The Senator's company wouldn't have sold me this land if there was a suit on it." Then, little by little, the facts began to clarify in his mind.
This was the Senator's last trade, and in sight, down in a Kentucky valley, was home. Strangely enough, the Senator did not care at all, and he had just enough sanity left to wonder why, and to be worried. It was the "walking typhoid" that had caught up with him, and he was listless, and he made strange gestures and did foolish things as he stumbled down the mountain.
Fields also gave reminiscences of Charles Sumner, showing the great senator's utter lack of any sense of humor, and among them a story of his summoning his office-boy to his presence on the eve of the Fourth of July and addressing him on this wise: "Patrick, to-morrow is the natal day of our Republic; it is a day for public rejoicing, a time of patriotic festivity.
It is not too much to say that the senator's scare had been of such thoroughness that he was willing to agree to almost anything. He had come so near to being relieved of that most precious possession, his respectability, that the reason in Mr. Cooke's course now appealed to him very strongly.
In the course of this journey by land and water and latterly as sharing the senator's care of his nephew Orion had become very dear to his old friend; and at the risk of incurring his displeasure he had even confessed the reasons that had prompted him to leave Memphis.
If I should say out loud what I think of them or if I should say what I think of friends who meddle and maunder on about love love I'd be ashamed if I were overheard. Now not another word, Doris Stanton!" She stamped her foot and beat her hand hard on the table in a manner that smacked considerably of the Senator's violence when his emotions were stirred.
I can ensure the acceptance of my terms. First, where is Winifred?" He hesitated. Here was the very verge of the gulf. Any admission implied the truth of Mrs. Carshaw's words. She did not help him. He must take the plunge without any further impulsion. But the Senator's nerve was broken. They both knew it. "At Gateway House, East Orange," he said sullenly.
You know who pays the gang? So do I! You don't know whose cattle those are: so don't I! To-morrow when they are branded fresh, they'll be the Senator's; and what are you sheep people going to do with this crowd coming in from the outside?
The members of Custer Lodge could scarcely understand why their little affair was taking so well. Mr. Harry Quincel was looked upon as quite a star for this sort of work. By the time the 16th had arrived Hurstwood's friends had rallied like Romans to a senator's call. A well-dressed, good-natured, flatteringly-inclined audience was assured from the moment he thought of assisting Carrie.
If he had been the one and only failure of the Civil Service workers, he could have accused himself and taken the Senator's advice to "chuck" the fool-theory of men in public service fighting for right; but he was only one of a multitude of men, paid public money to prevent the looting of public property; whose work was blocked, non-suited, pigeon-holed, bluffed, hampered, or, worst of all, carried up to investigating committees whose sole purpose was to conceal and wear the public out with interminable wrangles over technicalities that were irrelevant.
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