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Updated: June 1, 2025
"You are indeed welcome," greeted Grace, stepping forward to shake hands with the spectacle man, who put down his grip, mopped his forehead, then grasped her hand, regarding Grace with twinkling eyes. "I have just come from Jed Thompson's hospitable home where I have spectacled the family from the old man himself down to and including the babe.
"I won't say ennything, Jed. I promise." The man dropped his uplifted hand with a harsh grunt. "I'll kill y' if you do," he warned. The girl had dropped her axe, and was coming toward them. She was a slim, bird-like creature, with a poise to her head and an up-tilt to her chin which warned that the man had not yet beaten her to the level of the woman.
"Of course, that is just what the sheriff would think." "Folks can always see what they want to, Arlie," Jed commented. "Now, I can't see all that, by a lot." "It isn't necessary you should, Mr. Briscoe," Fraser retorted. "Or else I see a good deal more, lieutenant," Jed returned, with his smooth smile. "Mebbe the sheriff helped you on your way because you're such a good detective.
"I understand your feelings I've seen what has been going on but naturally I want my daughter to marry one worthy of her. You shall have my Marg when you have proven yourself! I've misjudged you, Jed, but this will wipe away old scores." With a sickening sense of being absorbed, Jed sank into black silence. If Marg wanted him and old Greyson was helping her, there was no hope!
With the tenderness of a woman Jolly Roger worked his fingers over Peter's scrawny little body. And Peter, whimpering softly, felt the infinite consolation of their touch. He was no longer afraid of Jed Hawkins, or of pain, or of death.
Holden closed his eyes and said gratefully: "Shoo them away, Jed, and then come back." Cochrane waved his hands at them. They went away, stumbling and holding on to each other in the eerie dream-likeness and nightmarish situation of no-weight-whatever. There were other passengers from the moon-rocket in this great central space of the platform.
Jed tried to comfort her and succeeded, after a fashion, at least she stopped crying, although she was silent most of the way home. And Jed himself was silent also. He shared her feeling of guilt.
"Hello, Josiah," hailed Jed, genially. "How's the president of the Western Union these days?" The boy grinned bashfully and opined the magnate just mentioned was "all right." Then he added: "Is Mr. Babbitt here? Mr. Bearse Mr. Gabe Bearse is over at the office and he said he saw Mr. Babbitt come in here." "Yes, he's here. Want to see him, do you?" "I've got a telegram for him." Mr.
"Was there any danger?" she asked, quickly. Jed hesitated before answering. "Why," he drawled, "I I don't know as there was, but well, the tide comes in kind of slow off ON the flats, but it's liable to fill up the channels between them and the beach some faster. Course if you know the wadin' places it's all right, but if you don't it's well, it's sort of uncomfortable, that's all."
Jed had explained, whereupon his young visitor expressed a wish to go and see for herself. "Couldn't you take Petunia and me some time, Mr. Winslow?" she asked. "Guess maybe so," was the reply, "provided I don't forget it, same as you forget about not callin' me Mr. Winslow." "Oh, I'm so sorry. Petunia ought to have reminded me. Can't you take me some time, Uncle Jed?"
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