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Updated: June 28, 2025
Judge Lindman coughed. "I shall have to refuse the request. The plaintiff is anxious to take possession of his property, and as no reason has been shown why he should not be permitted to do so, I hereby return judgment in his favor. Court is dismissed." "I give notice of appeal," said Graney. Outside a little later Judge Graney looked gravely at Trevison.
But she waved him away, saying: "Get out of here I want to think!" And he obeyed, looking back before he closed the door. "Selfish?" he muttered, going down the street. "Well, what of it? That's a human weakness, isn't it? Get what you want, and to hell with other people!" Trevison had gone to his room for a much-needed rest.
She had faded; the inevitable metamorphosis wrought by neglect, worry and want, had left its husks a wan, tired-looking woman of thirty who had only her hopes to nourish her soul. There were children, too if that were any consolation. Trevison saw them as he glanced around the cabin. They were in another bed; through an archway he could see their chubby faces.
Levins apologized for her husband's rudeness to his guest. "Clay feels awfully bitter against Corrigan. It's because Corrigan is fighting Trevison and Trevison is Clay's friend they've been like brothers. Trevison has done so much for us." Rosalind glanced around the cabin. She had meant to ask Chuck why his father had not come on the midnight errand, but had forebore. "Mr. Levins isn't here?"
But Trevison knew that the coming of the railroad marked an epoch, that the two thin, thread-like lines of steel were the tentacles of the man-made monster that had gripped the East business reaching out for newer fields and that Manti, futile and ridiculous as it seemed, was an outpost fortified by unlimited resource. Manti had come to stay. And the cattle business was going, Trevison knew.
It's likely that a man who'd cook up a deal like the Judge, here, says Corrigan has, would cook up another, chargin' Trevison with guzzlin' the banker. I've knowed Trevison a long time, boys, an' I don't believe he'd guzzle anybody he's too square a man for that!" He stood on his toes, raising his clenched hands, and bringing them down with a sweep of furious emphasis.
Twice as his fore-hoofs struck some slight obstruction his hind quarters lifted and he stood, balanced, on his forelegs, and each time Trevison averted the impending catastrophe by throwing himself far back in the saddle and slapping the black's hips sharply. "He's a circus rider!" shouted Carson, gleefully. "He's got the coolest head of anny mon I iver seen! He's a divvil, thot mon!"
He had stepped down from the doorway of the courthouse and had instantly been carried with the crowd to a point directly in front of Corrigan and Trevison, where he stood, bare-headed, pale, watching silently. Corrigan saw him, and smiled faintly at him.
Then the group split up, three going toward the front of the building; two remaining near the side door, and two others walking around to the rear. For an instant Trevison regretted that he had not taken Levins' advice about forming a posse of his own men to take the courthouse by storm, and he debated the thought of postponing action.
Couldn't anyway he's lying in the back room of the Belmont now, paralyzed. I think that somebody told Levins' wife about him shooting Marchmont yesterday, and Mrs. Levins likely sent Trevison after hubby knowing hubby's appetite for booze.
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