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Updated: June 13, 2025
"He's down the road here a little piece," replied Slavens testily, "in company of another friend of yours. You could have seen his tent as you came over if you'd looked." "I just put up my tent last night," Shanklin explained. Slavens took hold of his saddle-horn as if to mount, indicating by his action that the visit should come to an end.
Dr. Slavens rode in before dawn, more concerned about Agnes than about the person in whose behalf he had been summoned. On the way he asked Smith repeatedly how the tragedy affected her; whether she was frightened or greatly disturbed. "She's as steady as a compass," said Smith; and so he found her. Somewhat too steady, in fact.
Slavens' absence, and she declared to herself that she would turn Comanche over, like a stone in the meadow of which the philosopher wrote, and bare all its creeping secrets to the healthy sun, but that she would find him and clear away the unjust suspicions which she knew were growing ranker in that little colony hour by hour.
"What do you mean?" demanded Slavens, turning upon him sharply. Ten-Gallon stirred the dust with his toe, stooped and picked up an empty revolver-cartridge. "It ain't worth that!" said he, presenting it in the palm of his hand. "I don't know what you're driving at," said the doctor, inclined to walk away and leave him. "I mean that Hun Shanklin queered all of you," said Ten-Gallon.
"They left a pie-anno and a foldin'-bed, and a automobile and a safety-razor!" said the landlord, looking reproachfully at his big wife, who was motioning him out to his labors again. "Or any word for Dr. Slavens?" the stranger pursued with well-contained patience. "What do you want to know for?" asked the woman, turning upon him suddenly. "Because the grips belonged to me, madam; I am Dr.
"Oh, forget it!" snapped Slavens, thinking of the six hundred dollars which had flown out of the young fellow's hand so lightly. Once he could have bought a very good used automobile for four hundred. "But don't you suppose " Walker lowered his voice to a whisper, looking cautiously around in the dark as he spoke "that you stand a chance to hear from Hun Shanklin again?"
But for Agnes' return to round it out, Slavens' adventure in that country had come to a close. Without Agnes it would be incomplete, as without her there would be missing a most important part in the future pattern of his life. He could not go without Agnes, although he had nothing yet of success to offer her. But that was on the way.
Slavens gave him a list of articles needed in the patient's case, and the Governor rode away. The undertaker from Comanche arrived a little later, and took Hun Shanklin's body up from the ground. When his wagon, on its return to Comanche, had passed the tent where Agnes was trying to sleep, she got up and joined Dr. Slavens. "I couldn't sleep," she explained.
Slavens left him standing there and entered the tent, feeling that Shanklin was as irresponsible morally as a savage. Evidently the inconsequential matter of an attempt at murder should not be allowed to stand between friends, according to the flat-game man's way of viewing life.
Slavens has stepped into the door of your heart, and there is no room for anybody else to pass." But he left it unsaid, standing with his head bent as if in meditation, his watch in his hand. "Two minutes more," he announced. "I'm moving from the hotel," said she quickly, "to a room I've taken with a dear old lady in a funny little house among the trees. It's cheaper for me while I wait to file.
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