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Updated: September 7, 2025
Half way to the cabins a big, raw-boned teamster, singing in a drunken voice, came staggering toward them. Evidently he had just left the group of people who had gathered near the Indians. "I didn't expect to see drunkenness out here," said Jim, in a low tone. "There's lots of it. I saw that fellow yesterday when he couldn't walk. Wentz told me he was a bad customer."
Joe left the two ministers talking earnestly and turned toward Mrs. Wentz. The fur-trader's wife was glowing with pleasure. She held in her hand several rude trinkets, and was explaining to her listener, a young woman, that the toys were for the children, having been brought all the way from Williamsburg. "Kate, where's Nell?" Joe asked of the girl. "She went on an errand for Mrs. Wentz."
"Do you recall any reason, as you look back, why I should grant this favor that you ask?" Mr. Wentz distinctly squirmed. "N-no." "Quite the contrary, if you'll recollect." "I hope," with a deprecatory gesture of his white hand, "you are not laying that up against us, Miss Prentice? Surely you can understand that a bank must protect itself." Kate's eyes which had been violet were gray now.
"But not when he spoke the name. Ye see I got suspicious, an' asked about him. It's this way: Jake Wentz, the trader, told me the fellow asked for the Sheppards when he got off the wagon-train. When I first seen him he was drunk, and I heard Jeff Lynn say as how the border was a bad place to come after a woman. That's what made me prick up my ears. Then the Englishman said: 'It is, eh? By God!
There was small resemblance between the optimist who had assured Wentz so confidently that everything would be all right and the perspiring and all but exhausted Neifkins who wallowed in snow to his arm-pits in an effort to break trail for the four-horse team whose driver was displaying increasing reluctance to go on with the load of baled hay stalled some mile and a half from town.
Wentz, the fur-trader's wife, was seated by the open window which faced the fort; she was a large woman, strong of feature, and with that calm placidity of expression common to people who have lived long in sparsely populated districts. Nell glanced furtively at her and thought she detected the shadow of a smile in the gray eyes. "I saw you and your sweetheart makin' love behind the willow," Mrs.
Wentz had waved a long white hand and requested him languidly to be seated. Since he already had motioned Kate to the only chair beside the one he himself occupied in his enclosure, it was clear there was no way for Mr. Pantin to accept the invitation unless he sat on the floor.
Wentz has many instances of the kind from Ireland and other Celtic countries; but fairies are by no means confined to Celtic countries, though they are more easily discerned by Celtic races. Of this chain of Being, then, of which our order is a member, the fairy world is another and more subtle member, subtler in the right sense of the word because it is not burdened with a material envelope.
Some of them have appeared in the magazines as curious recitals and may have afforded pastime to the idle-minded, but without the courageous initiative of Mr. Wentz I don't know that I should have attempted to give them such coherence as they may claim to possess.
"I've never had any business to attend to. I will learn, though." Wentz smiled enigmatically. Then, brusquely: "We might as well come to the point and have it over do you know them sheep's mortgaged?" "I knew," hesitatingly, "that Uncle Joe had borrowed for our expenses, but I didn't know how he did it." "That's how he did it," curtly.
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