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Updated: May 10, 2025
Thornton commanded. The crackling turned into a snapping, the sled pivoting and the runners slipping and grating several inches to the side. The sled was broken out. Men were holding their breaths, intensely unconscious of the fact. "Now, Mush!" Thornton's command cracked out like a pistol shot. Buck threw himself forward, tightening the traces with a jarring lunge.
"Yes; we are on Thornton's Ridge. Throw the lead!" replied Paul, with some anxiety, as he took the glass and pointed it in the direction opposite the shore. "By the mark five!" reported the quartermaster, who was heaving the lead in the fore chains. "That proves it," exclaimed Paul. "We are on Thornton's. The steeples on the shore are Blankenburg, and those farther off are the Bruges steeples.
They've had the nerve to tackle my district. But if they think that I'm going to ungrip and let them grab it they've got a wrong line on old Thornton's sheepfold." "What do you need in the way of help?" asked the State chairman. "Nothing." Thornton turned again to survey his unruly flock. It was plain that they were baiting their overlord. Presson's acumen in politics enlightened him.
"But perhaps it'll come out right in the end." "I don't see how," said John Ellison. "Witham's got the mill, and the big wood lot where we used to cut most of the wood we sold every fall, and the great meadow up opposite old Granny Thornton's, with the hayfield in it. We've got enough left close by here to keep us from starving, all right; but it isn't what it ought to be.
Then she noticed that Mrs. Sturgis's keen eyes were upon her, and swiftly drove the expression from her own eyes and returned Thornton's greeting indifferently. Some day her uncle would accuse this man, but she did not care to give her personal affair over to the tongue of gossip, nor did she care to have her name linked in any way with Buck Thornton's. "May I have this dance, Miss Waverly?"
Now, in Mr. Thornton's face the straight brows fell low over the clear, deep-set earnest eyes, which, without being unpleasantly sharp, seemed intent enough to penetrate into the very heart and core of what he was looking at.
As he turned the pony round the corner of the little lane which bordered the lawn he heard Mrs Thornton's surprised exclamation, "Why, Mollie!" and the half-laughing exclamation, "It's nothing! The sun is so strong, it made my eyes smart!" Jack Melland set his teeth and drove on in a tumult of feeling such as he had never known before in the course of his self-satisfied existence.
As though he would find a flicker in the steady eyes of the other man to tell him what he wanted to know, he moved his hand, his left, a very, very little, so little that save at a time like this no man would have seen. There came no change in Thornton's eyes. The Kid lifted the hand, laying it with still fingers upon the table before him.
"I want a quiet talk," was Thornton's reply. "I'm not here to start anything, Bedloe. Will you give me a chance to talk with you?" Bedloe pondered the words, without distrust, without credence, merely searching for what lay back of them. And finally he answered with a brief question: "Where?" "Anywhere.
I sometimes think I will go away; but to leave Ashcroft now would imply a doubt of Thornton's honor, and impute thoughts to him which perhaps have no existence but in my vanity. "October 3. Ah, why was I so foolish? Why did I not go when I saw the danger so clearly, instead of cheating myself into the belief that there was none?
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