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Updated: June 21, 2025
"They go to move herd some place," shrugged the Mexican. "W'ere, I don' know." Stratton ate his meal of beef, bread, and warmed-over coffee in silence and then returned to the bunk-house, vaguely dissatisfied at the idle afternoon which stretched before him.
Coupling it with what he knew or suspected of the man, Stratton felt there was some excuse for that momentary mental shrinking. "He'd as soon put me out of the way as shoot a coyote," he said to himself, as he walked over to his bunk. "All he wants is a chance to do it without getting caught." But with ordinary care and caution he did not see just how Tex was going to get the chance.
The effect of this unexpected peace and quiet on Stratton, however, was precisely opposite from the one he presumed was intended. He had a feeling that it was a calm before the storm, and became more alert than ever. The unnatural placidity weighed on him, and as day followed day serenely his nerves grew edgy.
Daggett's small, faded blue eyes regarded him curiously. "Did yuh ever meet up with this here Stratton?" he asked abruptly. "I a know what he looks like." "It's more'n I do," grumbled Pop regretfully. "The only two times he was here I was laid up with a mean attack of rheumatiz, an' never sot eyes on him.
That, broadly speaking, was the scheme; but there were delicate touches of refinement and ingenuity in the process which wrung from Stratton, in rare intervals when he was not too furious to judge calmly, a grudging measure of admiration for the wily foreman. Frequently, for instance, Stratton would be assigned to night-herd duty with promise of relief at a certain hour.
There were kisses and renewed embracings; the young man was greeted more decorously but with almost equal warmth, and then suddenly Miss Thorne turned to Stratton, who stood back a little, struggling between a longing to escape and an equally strong desire to find out a little more about this attractive but startling reminder of his unknown past.
But Cecilia, when she began to fear that something did ail him, did not find it very easy to tell Florence all the truth. But there was jealousy at Stratton, though Florence was not jealous. Old Mrs. Burton had become alarmed, and was ready to tear the eyes out of Harry Clavering's head if Harry should be false to her daughter. This was a misfortune of which, with all her brood, Mrs.
If I were limited to one adjective in describing her, 'capable' would be the word." The author's father was descended from a long line of ancestors of British blood. He was named for, and traced his origin to, that first Mark Stratton who lived in New York, married the famous beauty, Anne Hutchinson, and settled on Stratton Island, afterward corrupted to Staten, according to family tradition.
He, however, confessed that he was heartily weary of the life which, it was evident, was rendered doubly disagreeable by the character of his mate, although he uttered no complaint against the man. The term of service for which he had engaged was just about to expire, and Captain Berrington, much pleased with him, invited him, as soon as he should be at liberty, to come to Stratton.
The whole bunch of 'em just rode off." "Hello, kid!" said Stratton quietly. "You awake? What's up, anyhow?" There was a rustle in the adjoining bunk, the thud of bare feet on the floor, and Jessup's face loomed, wedge-shaped and oddly white, through the shadows. "They're gone," he repeated, with a curious, nervous hesitancy of manner. "I know. You said that before.
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