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Updated: June 7, 2025
The screams kept coming, but each a little fainter. Either the man was moving on or the pain was lessening. Mrs. Toomey's heart continued to thump as she lay rigid, listening. She wanted to get up and look through the window, but the floor was cold and she could not remember exactly where she had left her slippers. Anyway, somebody else would go to him.
"Where have you been?" he demanded in a sharp tone. "I ain't been lost," replied Teeters calmly. "Where would I be 'cept huntin' stock?" "Why didn't you follow me?" "I think too much of my horse to jam him over rocks when there ain't no special call for it. I kin ride on a run 'thout fallin' off, when they's need to." Toomey's brilliant black eyes flashed.
Hold on, Ben, till I get my things off. You can obey if you like, but it's the last run I make with this faugh! And you say you've been a soldier!" It was Toomey's chance, after weeks of pent-up rage for battle, and he couldn't throw it away.
Toomey bought chocolates while Mrs. Toomey held her hands to the stove and shivered. "Come on, Dell." Toomey's glance as he took the candy included the stranger. "How're you?" he nodded carelessly. They were to be the last, apparently, for when their footsteps died away the street again grew silent. The clerk planted his feet on the nickel railing and stared at the stove gloomily.
When he looked at Toomey, his eyes wore the expression of a faithful and understanding follower; but when he answered the stares of the crowd through the bars of his cage, the greenish fire that flamed in their inscrutable depths was ominous and untamed. In all save his willing subjection to Toomey's mastery, he was a true wolf, of the savage and gigantic breed of the Northwestern timber.
And now after a taste of freedom, of power and opulence, here she was back in practically the same position and rapidly developing the same mental attitude towards those more affluent and, therefore, more socially important than herself. Mrs. Toomey's thoughts were much the color of the serge into which she slashed.
To the spectators this was aggressively obvious; and therefore the marvel of seeing this sinister gray beast, with the murderous fangs, so submissive to Toomey's gentlest bidding, never grew stale. In every audience there were always some spectators hopefully pessimistic, who vowed that the great wolf would some day turn upon his master and tear his throat.
Yet she had not yielded easily to Toomey's importunities. It had required all his powers of persuasion to overcome her scruples, her ingrained thrift and natural prudence. "We need the change; we've lived too long in a high altitude, and we're nervous wrecks, both of us," he had argued. "We should get in touch with things and the right kind of people.
"I think he's workin' on borried capital and they're shuttin' down on him," Teeters conjectured. "His 'Old Man," he nodded toward Hughie, "has got consider'ble tied up in the Outfit, I've an idea. Anyhow, if I git beat out of my money after the way Toomey's high-toned it over me " He cast a significant look at a fist with particularly prominent knuckles.
It was so strongly in her mind while they dressed for the affair at the Prouty House that Toomey's conversation was largely a soliloquy. Surveying himself complacently in the glass, it pleased Mr. Toomey to be jocose. "Say, Old Girl, how long will it take you to pack your war-bag when I get this deal pulled off?
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