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Updated: June 29, 2025
Jessup picked up his hat, and Austin held the door open for him to pass out, leaving Sylvia standing, an erect, scornful little black figure, with very red cheeks, her angry eyes growing rapidly soft as she looked straight past the minister at Austin. The results of Mr. Jessup's visit were several.
Once or twice she was even a little jealous of Bud Jessup's ministrations; just as, thinking of him now, she was jealous of his constant nearness to Buck and the manner in which he seemed so intently to share all the other's plans and projects, and even thoughts. "Well, anyway," she said suddenly aloud, "I'm glad Stella's not here."
Fortunately Jessup's directions had been explicit, and toward noon Buck found the spring at the bottom of a small cañon and proceeded to unpack and settle down. Bud himself had discovered the place by accident, and as far as Stratton could judge it was not a likely spot to be visited either by the Shoe-Bar hands or their Mexican confederates.
By three o'clock, however, everything was about done and there were only the final touches to be put on. Grandma engineered everything over the telephone and Green Valley responded whole-heartedly, as it always did to all her work. Fanny Foster had found time to run down to Jessup's and buy the bride a first-class tablecloth and some towels.
When General Porter and his staff arrived at Street's creek, they were met by Major Jessup's battalion, then in the act of taking its position, which was on the left, and a short distance from the remainder of General Scott's brigade; and the volunteers fatigued as they were, aided Major Jessup's evolutions, which were executed with great order and celerity, by breaking down the fences to enable him to pass from the road bordering on Street's creek, to his position in the field.
He thought he might possibly detect some signs of glumness in the faces of the foreman and his confederates, but he was quite unprepared for the open anger and excitement which stamped every face, Bud Jessup's included. "Rustlers were out again last night," Bud explained, the moment he had a chance.
She hesitated; was very much perplexed; denied and confessed alternately that she possessed some of Miss Jessup's writing; at length began to weep very bitterly. After some solicitation, on my part, to be explicit, she consented to disclose what she acknowledged to be a great fault. The substance of her story was this:
Miss Jessup's conscience may awaken time enough to enable her to undeceive you, and to repent of her second as well as her first fraud. If that event ever takes place, perhaps this letter may still exist to bear testimony to my rectitude. Thrown aside and long forgotten, or never read, chance may put it in your way once more.
I wish I had written a few words to her by Molly, assuring her of my devotion to her will. And yet, stands she in need of any new assurances? She has banished me. I am preparing to fly. She recalls me, and it is impossible to depart. I must go to Miss Jessup's.
"I wonder?" he mused thoughtfully. A waste of sand, cactus, and scanty desert growth! In Arizona nothing is more ordinary or commonplace, more utterly lacking in interest and significance. Yet Stratton's mind returned to it persistently as he considered one by one the scanty details of Jessup's brief narrative.
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