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Updated: June 27, 2025
There was still a third lawyer, Burton Stimson, the youngest but assuredly not the least able of the three, a pale, dark-haired Romeoish youth with burning eyes, whom Cowperwood had encountered doing some little work for Laughlin, and who was engaged to work on the West Side with old Laughlin as ostensible organizer and the sprightly De Soto Sippens as practical adviser.
"It couldn't have been anybody else, because he took the documents and signed for them," said the trooper. "Big bay horse?" "No, sir," said the trooper. "It was a bronco, and a screw at that." "Well," said Stimson dryly, "let me have your book. If Payne has come in, tell him I want him." The trooper went out, and when his comrade came in, Stimson laid a strip of paper before him.
You will now find every day full of regular employments, and when I cannot walk out with you I shall send Stimson. You must not expect to run wild any more, but give yourself to the improvement of your mind, and to fitting yourself for the duties of life. Now I have letters to write, and you may leave me till I send for you again. For this one day you will have to be idle, I suppose."
"And that of his only and true Son," responded a voice from one at his elbow. Notwithstanding the emergency, and the excitement produced by this sudden change, Roswell Gardiner turned to see from whom this admonition had come. The oldest seaman on board, who was Stimson, a Kennebunk man, and who had been placed there to watch the schooner's drift, had uttered these unusual words.
I went up to the fore, and Stimson to the main, and we soon had them down ``ship-shape and Bristol fashion''; for, as we had now become used to our duty aloft, everything above the cross-trees was left to us, who were the youngest of the crew, except one boy. For several days the captain seemed very much out of humor. Nothing went right, or fast enough for him.
Land! but it did go quick! I never see such a fierce fire. I sure thought them two boys would be burned to death," remarked Nate Jackford, another neighbor. "So did I," admitted Mr. Stimson. "It's been a terrible night." "But it might have been worse." "That's so." There was nothing more that could be done.
"I don't know about that," Sister Poteet argued. "From all I can see and hear I think Kate Stimson wouldn't object to 'most anything the deacon would say to her, knowing as she does that he ain't going to say anything he shouldn't say." "And isn't saying what he should," added Sister Green, with a sly snicker, which went around the room softly.
I was in the room with Hawley when Stimson, our very greatest Greek archæologist and art-expert, entered, and, catching sight of the little figure, picked it up, studied it for a few moments, smelt it, licked it with his tongue, pressed it to his cheek, and handed it back to my friend with a single, blasting comment 'fake. We two were incredulous, but within fifteen minutes Stimson had convinced us that the thing was a palpable fraud.
But Stimson, after considerable negotiating and working, had succeeded in persuading my English friend, Tom Harris, my companion in the anchor watch, for thirty dollars, some clothes, and an intimation from Captain Faucon that he should want a second mate before the voyage was over, to take his place in the brig as soon as she was ready to go up to windward.
As no white man is allowed to supply an Indian with alcohol in any form, the wardens of the prairie took a somewhat similar view of the case, and Stimson was, from motives which he did not mention, especially anxious to get his grip upon the other offender.
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