Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 16, 2025
Such was the man who should have gone long ago to death or imprisonment for the orders he had issued to his assassins. "Judge Garvin," said my companion, "my name's Weighborne. I met you once in the court-house. You probably don't remember me." The gigantic reprobate smiled affably. "Sure, I remember you," he affirmed. "I mighty seldom forget a man."
"I reckon you gentlemen came up to look over this here coal and timber project?" Garvin's voice seemed to hold only a politely simulated interest in our affairs. Weighborne nodded. "Do you think, Judge, as a man in good position to gauge the sentiment of the people, that we shall have their sympathy in our efforts?"
He shook his head. "To you?" he inquired with a smile. "You're a woman-hater." But a moment later he came over and laid his hand affectionately on my shoulder, fearing he had offended me. "I guess, old man," he explained, "there's no balm in post-mortems. I loved her, that's all, and I still do." "She married?" I inquired. "She is now Mrs. William Clay Weighborne of Lexington.
When Weighborne introduced himself there was no overt display of interest, and yet unless I was allowing my imagination to run away with me I sensed from that moment forward that the lazy indolence of the atmosphere was electrified. The men lounged about in unchanged attitudes and from time to time spat on the hot stove, yet each of them was carefully appraising us.
I fancied he was trying to force Garvin into committing himself, but it was a dangerous experiment. "What's anybody terrified about?" inquired the Judge with entire blindness. Weighborne, totally checkmated by this childlike query, changed ground and laughed. "Oh, we hear a good deal of talk down below," he explained, "about the shot from the laurel and all that sort of thing."
Sir, you have tremendously complicated matters." He dropped his hands at his sides with a weary gesture, half-despair. "However, it's done now," he added, "it's no use to deplore it but, for God's sake, be more careful in the future." When Weighborne recovered consciousness he spoke to me once more of his wife.
Then I dropped fervently on my knees at her feet and shamelessly seized her hands in mine and kissed them. She made no effort to release them and I crushed them greedily while my tongue could find no words, until, as I afterward learned, her rings cut into the flesh. "But," I stammered finally, "you are Frances Weighborne. His wife is Frances Weighborne. Bob Maxwell told me "
I, of all men in the world, could least endure or be endured at that greeting between Weighborne and his wife who had ridden these mountains to be with him. He and I had labored across those twenty miles in a wagon by daylight. I could guess what it meant at night and in the saddle and she had done it!
"You see, while the jurors were freed from fear, the witnesses knew they must return home." "Shall we be likely to meet this highly interesting character?" I questioned. "The store where our wagon turns back," said Weighborne, "is his place." "Then I am to be careful not to form or express any opinion adverse to judicious homicide? Is that the point?" Weighborne smiled.
I dropped on one knee and lifted her hand to my lips. Later, I sketched rapidly, agitatedly, the story of the coming of her portrait to the island, of its place on the chest and its subsequent worship. I told her of meeting Keller on the steamer and Maxwell in New York. I summarized the chain of evidence which had to my mind proved her to be Mrs. Weighborne.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking