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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Run? when I go I'll fly." All the town turned out to look when Dan Treu drove into town with the girl sitting bolt upright and very white upon the seat beside him. They stopped at the Terriberry House and her old room was assigned to her, but all the gaping crowd considered her a prisoner.
"I hope the house don't ketch fire while we're eatin', for I sure aims to slide these slippers off onct we're set down, and there's one thing certain," Mrs. Terriberry continued savagely, "I'm sufferin' enough to git some good out of it." As Essie turned away Mrs. Terriberry kissed her cheek kindly. "Keep a stiff upper lip, Essie, don't let them see." "I can do that," the girl replied proudly.
Harpe's face had hardened slightly at the answer. "It's your own affair, naturally," she had returned indifferently; "but I'll have to find accomodations elsewhere. If living in the same house would injure me professionally, merely a boarder, you can guess what it will do to you in a business way, and," she had added significantly, "socially." Mrs. Terriberry had looked startled.
Van Lennop will put this project through in his own good time; but let me prophesy they'll be pitching horse-shoes in the main street of Crowheart first." The sound of a commotion on the stairs reached them. "What's broken loose in this man's town now?" As though in direct answer to Kincaid's question Mrs. Terriberry lunged down the corridor looking like a hippopotamus in red foulard.
Terriberry made no offer to take the package which Mrs. Jackson extended. "Just a little taste of buffalo berry jelly for Essie," said Miss Starr, with her most radiant smile. "Her uncle might enjoy it." "I ain't forgot," said Mrs. Tutts, "how fond Ess is of brown bread, so I says to myself I'll just take some of my baked beans along, too. Tutts says I beat the world on baked beans. Where's Ess?
"Hank" Terriberry, whose hair looked like a pair of angora "chaps" in a high wind, returning from her third trip to the dish-pan, burst into tears at the man's depravity and inadvertently wiped her streaming eyes on the end of her long lace jabot instead of her handkerchief.
She was deaf to the night sounds of the town; to the thick, argumentative voices beneath her window; to the scratched phonograph squeaking an ancient air in the office of the Terriberry House; to the banging of an erratic piano in the saloon two doors above; to the sleepy wails of the butcher's urchin in the tar-paper shack one door below, and to a heap of snarling dogs fighting in the deep, white dust of the street.
Ze wagon is at ze shop for repairs and there you meet me. I've got to get back to ze sheep for awhile. You will haf good rest in ze hills." The lonely hills with Dubois for company! A shiver like a chill passed over her. Returning to the hotel she found that the news had preceded her, for Mrs. Terriberry rushed down upon her with outstretched arms. "Why didn't you tell me last night, Essie?"
It was some time later that Mrs. Terriberry sailing through the corridor in her dressing-sacque and petticoat, with her feet scuffling in Mr. Terriberry's carpet-slippers, had the stone-china water-pitcher dashed from her hand as she turned a corner. "Why, Essie!" "Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Terriberry!" "What's the matter?" She looked wonderingly at the girl's crimson face.
That was curious, for he was always up when any of his guests were leaving on the early train. Van Lennop's decision must have been sudden. What could be the explanation? There was a letter propped against the lamp on a table behind the office desk and, as she surmised, it was addressed to Mr. Terriberry in Van Lennop's handwriting.
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