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Updated: June 24, 2025
Harder to understand at first were the Latin phrases in Mr, afterwards Judge, Torrance's lectures on Roman law, for at that time the absurd English pronunciation of Latin was the universal rule among English-speaking scholars. Most helpful were the lectures of Carter in criminal law, admirably prepared and well delivered.
Torrance looked from it to the dusky Indian face above it. "Cut!" jerked the halfbreed. "Thar's more up thar." Torrance reached out slowly and took the rope, incredulous. "'Twan't bolted," said the halfbreed. "An' then that." A wave of crimson deepened the tan on Torrance's face.
Koppy, the Polish under foreman, sent his eyes darting from face to face. In his manner was a curious mingling of bravado and diffidence a lumbering body, a shrinking way of holding himself, a stammering foreign accent and phrasing. But in spite of it there was ample ground for Torrance's persistent suspicions.
Twice in the next ten minutes he went to the door and listened up the track. "They must be stopping at Torrance's," he said, throwing wide the door and leaning against the side as he talked. "It'll make some excitement, at any rate, for a nice little girl who's going a bit to seed. No . . . they're coming back!" He paused to listen, his brow wrinkling. "That's quick work, whatever they did."
Has the hired girl kicked for another afternoon a week, and who's the latest married man to run away with another woman? That may not be wigwam gossip, but it's all we know in our set; it's all the small-talk I have." The Indian solemnly accepted the preferred hand, studying it curiously as his own brown one shook to Torrance's welcome. "Me spik English," he grunted. Torrance grinned foolishly.
Only that isn't the way I've made a success of railway construction, my lad." Conrad took it cheerfully. "Then imagine you take it to court. Have you time? It'll mean Battleford for the Police trial. And what would you win? They don't jail men even out here for defending themselves. And what would happen the trestle in the meantime?" He saw hesitation in Torrance's eyes.
Morani had never a chance. Lifted clear of the trestle, he pitched headlong into the chasm. But in the effort Torrance's foot slipped. He tried to drop to save himself, but too late. Clawing at the ends of the sleepers, he fell over the way Morani had gone. The breath in a hundred throats held. Mahon closed his eyes.
"God fergive me fer keepin' yuh waitin', Mira!" he breathed, trying to read in her face the forgiveness that meant more to him. But she had turned away, and he did not see the tear on her lashes. Torrance's pride was becoming a devastating thing; for the moment it had run away with his sense of proportion and obliterated every superstition.
At the first blow she ran to the door and peeped through. Was it vengeance for the devastation her father had wrought in the big camp riot? But she had faith in him almost equal to his own, and she knew she would only be in the way out there. But as the fight progressed, Torrance's bull voice rising with the fury of the fray, she lifted a small automatic from a drawer and hastily examined it.
He was thinking of other things: of prison walls that he had eluded so far through years of crime; of O'Donnell, whom he knew to be working on the Compton case and whose boast it had been that sooner or later he would get the Lizard; of what might naturally be expected were the papers in his hands to fall into the possession of Torrance's attorney.
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