Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 24, 2025
Frank recognized that drawling voice. He had heard his father's cousin, Eugene Warringford, speak many times, and generally in this slow way. But Frank also knew that back of his apparently careless manner there was more or less venom. Eugene could hate, and hide his feelings in a masterly manner. He could smile, and then strike behind the back of the one with whom he was dealing.
It was one of his few leisure hours, and he sat for a long time looking out on the quiet street, where his small motor car stood waiting. He had no inclination for a spin to Warringford now; he was thinking too deeply about the little girl who had held so large a share of his big heart since the day when he had first seen her, lying so white and still, with the life all but crushed out of her.
Reckon as how he don't feel any too warm toward you, accordin' to the way he used to bring them black brows of his'n down, when he thought you wa'n't lookin'. And his name was Eugene Warringford." No one appeared to be greatly surprised at this piece of news. Apparently it had been already discounted in the mind of Frank, his father, and even Bob Archer.
"So, that's the way the wind sets, is it?" remarked the colonel, frowning. "Anyhow, dad, that proves one thing," declared Frank. "Meaning about that business of listening under the window?" observed the owner of Circle Ranch. "It certainly does. Abajo has been in the employ of Eugene Warringford from the start.
"I don't like to think he would; but you never can tell," Frank replied. "When a man like Eugene Warringford sells his soul, and with a chance of getting a big stake, he is generally ready to shut his eyes, and go the limit." "But, Frank, that would be terrible! One of those rocks, coming down from the face of a high cliff, would seriously injure us!"
"There were people passing us, all the time," his chum explained; "and besides, I wanted to keep it until we were alone, so we could talk it over." "Is it about that scheming cousin of your father's what did you say his name was Eugene Warringford?" "You got it straight enough," Frank admitted; "and what I learned, was about him.
Of course Frank and his chum enjoyed the return gallop even more than when on the way to the Grand Canyon. They no longer had anything weighing on their minds, since the plans of Eugene Warringford had been broken up. And besides, the recollection of the astounding wonders they had gazed upon in that great canyon were bound to haunt them forever.
"And I'm going to find out if he's keeping an eye on us, so as to report to his employer, Eugene Warringford," Frank announced, as they were drawing near the end of the meal. "That sounds good to me," Bob remarked; "but how will you do it?" For answer Frank drew out a paper from an inner pocket. "You see this document," he observed, with a solemn look.
Now, run along and get on your hat and coat, for the air is growing cool. We'll have a nice spin up to Warringford, and you'll sleep all the better for it." Polly skipped away smiling, but presently was down in the office, without her wraps. "The children feel so bad to have me go," she said soberly, "I guess I'd better stay with them seeing it's the last night." Her lip quivered.
Above all, we mustn't let that schemer, Eugene Warringford, get his fingers on the document." That night they made camp in a little cave that offered an asylum. The boys rather fancied the idea for a change. And they passed a very comfortable night without any alarm. Once, Bob being on duty near the mouth of the opening, heard a shuffling sound without.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking