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Updated: June 14, 2025
He turned to his desk and sat with his head propped in his hands, staring at the little photograph of Wartrace Hall which he had had mounted in a plate-glass paper-weight. The sight gave an added twist to the torture screw and he broke out again. "I've been nothing more than a bit of potter's clay, and the master potter God help me! is my own father! It's all plain enough now.
David Blount was chuckling softly as he threw up the brim of the big sombrero he was wearing. "Sounds right funny to hear you talking that way, son," he commented. "Mighty near everybody this side of the Bad Lands will tell you that the slate hangs up behind the door at Wartrace Hall; and I don't know but what some people would say that old Sage-Brush Dave himself does most of the writing on it.
"Tennessee, you go up yonder and argue with Jack Barto a spell," he directed. "Tell him and his partner that the Wartrace smoke-house is the safest place in Quaretaro County for a couple of club-witted bunglers like they are, and then you see to it that they get there. You, Billy, help Rickert get a tow-rope hitch on that road-car, and we'll see if we can't jerk it out of the way."
"No listen," she insisted. "It's wrong to work on Sunday, but if you will be obstinate, you must stop at luncheon-time. We are going to drive out to Wartrace Hall this afternoon; Doctor Dillon says we positively must take you away from town and keep you quiet for a few days." "I can't go with you," he answered brusquely, adding: "And I'm not sure that I can join you at luncheon.
Blount reached the entrance to the cottonwood-shaded avenue at Wartrace Hall just before the dinner hour; and he was so far recovered from the attack of righteous indignation that he was able to meet his father and the others with a fair degree of equanimity. In the back part of his mind, however, he held the fighting ultimatum in suspense.
My folks had means. After I got out of school I went into business on my own hook in my home town. You will be interested in this, Brother Wartrace; so make them fellers come out of the store and be quiet." Order was restored. The mountaineers who were talking within slouched out on the porch and stood respectfully listening. "I went into the grain business," Leach continued.
We were not allowed to wait for breakfast, or to feed the horses. What this movement was for, or where we were going, none, save the officers in command, knew. A march of twenty miles brought us to Tullahoma, which is south of Wartrace, and on the same railroad. It is also at the junction of the Manchester and McMinnville road. On arriving there, we encamped in an orchard near the depot.
Dolph Wartrace, you know, that keeps the cross-roads store nigh us, clerked in Darley before he went in on his own hook out here, an' I've heard 'im tell of a lot o' pranks that they had over thar. He said thar was an old bachelor that, kept a dry-goods store who never had had much to do with women.
He let that go, and for the time the talk was of the doings at Wartrace Hall: of the professor's enthusiastic digging for fossils, of Patricia's keen enjoyment of the life in the open, and this put with gentle hesitation on the part of the news-bringer of Mrs. Honoria's growing affection for the young woman whose ambitions reached out toward a sociological career.
However, he provided us with a good supper and a comfortable bed, promising, also, not to inform the Federal pickets on us. The next morning, the sky for a time was clear, but it soon became overcast, and we were again compelled to suffer the inevitable drenching that befel us every day of this dreary journey. We reached Wartrace in the midst of a pelting storm.
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