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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Say, you gorl " "Set right ther', Shaky," broke in Slum, as the big man sprang toward him. "Set right ther'; ther' ain't goin' to be no hoss-play." Slum Ranks had not shifted his position, but his right hand had dived into his jacket pocket and his eyes flashed ominously. And the carpenter dropped back into his seat without a word. And Tresler looked on in amazement.
And as they walked, Joe, under cover of the darkness, eyed his companion with occasional sidelong glances, speculating as to what he wanted with him. He quite understood that his companion was not walking with him for the pleasure of his company. On his part Tresler was wondering how much he ought to tell this man almost a stranger of what he had seen.
Any message I receive in that way I shall act upon at once. I have learned a great deal to-day, Tresler, so much indeed that I even think you may need to use this river before long. All I ask of you is to be circumspect that's the word, circumspect." The sheriff edged his horse away so that he could obtain a good view of Lady Jezebel.
She paused, but Tresler made no offer to help her out. "I knew father could see at night. He was what Mr. Osler calls a Nyc Nyctalops. That's it. It's some strange disease and not real blindness at all, as far as I can make out.
She took one step in the direction of the window, but drew up with such a violent start and expression of alarm in her tearful eyes, that Tresler peered all round the room for the cause. He saw nothing more startling than a slumbering cat and the fragments of a broken lamp upon the floor, and his eyes went back to her again. Then, as he marked her attitude of attention, he understood.
Tresler saw the trap the wily police officer had laid for him and refused the bait. Evidently the blind man had told his version of that morning's doings, and the sheriff wished to learn the men's side of it. Probably his, Tresler's. This calm, cold man seemed to depend in no way upon verbal answers for the information he desired, for he went on without any appearance of expecting a reply.
"What are my orders, and where do I sleep?" "Then you don't sleep up at the house?" Jake inquired, pretending surprise. There was a slight acidity in his tone. "That is hardly to be expected when the foreman sleeps down there." Tresler nodded, indicating the outbuildings. "That's so," observed the other, thoughtfully.
And he scorns all my accusations against Jake, and treats me worse than some silly, tattling servant girl. How can we do anything?" It was that last question that set fire to the powder-train. She had coupled herself with him, and Tresler, seeking only the faintest loophole, jumped at the opportunity it afforded him. His serious face softened.
"Well," echoed the foreman; and the other noted the quiet derision in his tone, "seems to me you've done a deal of figgering." Tresler nodded. Jake turned away with something very like a smile. Evidently he had decided upon the course to be pursued.
The girl took up her position as usual, and Tresler moved his chair over beside the little table she laid her work on, and sat facing her. He loved to gaze upon the sad little face. He loved to say things to her that would rouse it from its serious caste, and show him the shadows dispelled, and the pretty smile wreathing itself in their stead. And he had found it so easy too.
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