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Updated: June 4, 2025
Tenney," she said, "this is what we've done. When I found you were both up here, I had Jerry go over and get your cows. He milked and I strained the milk. I locked up the house, too. Here's your key. What makes you go back to-night? It'll be easier by daylight. Rookie, couldn't he sleep up here?" "Yes," said Raven, "of course he can. We'll be down to breakfast, tell Charlotte."
Tenney had stood perfectly still, but now he lifted one hand and looked at it casually, as he had that other time. He made an uncertain step, as if to pass her and enter the house, but Tira stretched out her arms. They barred the way. "No," she said, "you ain't comin' in." "Ain't comin' in?" repeated Tenney. He looked up at her, but his glance fell at once to the trembling hand.
Sometimes he came to the house to ask how Tenney was getting on, but to-day he had to get back to his own work. This was perhaps a week after Tenney's accident, when he was getting impatient over inaction, and next day the doctor came and pronounced the wound healing well.
Yet it had been a good deal of a strain, that anguish of a creature he was not allowed to help; it was exacting a heavy penalty. He found his mind dwelling on it, look by look, word by word, and finding no relief except in the thought of Tenney in the river pasture, chopping. If that came to pass, the woman would be safe for hours she could count upon.
She did not dare quite shut it, lest a bit of the weapon should be left to cry out from the ashes and tell. When she was back in bed again, the child on her arm, Tenney, disturbed by her coming, woke and turned. He lifted his head from the pillow, to listen, and she wondered if he could hear the beating of her heart. "You there?" he asked. "What's that stove started out roarin' for?
"You missed the lovely purple tints," Miss Mullaly told them, as the remaining quartette filed back to join the rest. "We'd rather have the picture of that magnificent sky of mottled crimson," declared Mrs. Grace. "Nothing could be finer than that," observed Mrs. Tenney. "Look out!" broke in a rich voice. "I shan't let you say there's anything finer than this!"
This was not the man of yesterday. He carried his axe and dinner pail. He walked alertly, as if his mind were on his day's work, and the pale face had quite lost its livid excitement. It was grave and even sad. Raven, seeing that, wondered if the fellow could feel remorse, and was conscious of a lift in the cloud of his own anxiety. Tenney, not waiting to be addressed, walked straight up to him.
Tenney looked down at the axe frowningly, and the hand holding it sank to his side. "Besides saying she wouldn't testify against you," Raven continued, "she refused to leave you. She is a foolish woman, but she's like most of them. They hang on to the beast that abuses 'em, God knows why. But the rest of us won't let you off so easy. Don't think it, for a minute.
He wanted to say a word to him as to the gray birches. But actually he could not down his impatience to know whether Tenney was coming at all.
Ammon M. Tenney in Phoenix lately told the Author that the Navajo were the only Indians who ever really fought the Mormons and the only tribe against which the Mormons were compelled to depart from their rule against the shedding of blood.
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