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Updated: June 20, 2025
And Father Adam is a mighty precious life to us all in Sachigo." It had been a hard day. Bull Sternford had spent it dealing with complicated financial schedules, an amazing, turbulent sea of figures, until his powers and patience had temporarily exhausted themselves. In a final fit of irritation he had flung his work aside, and risen from his desk.
"Best talk to Sternford when you get back up there to your office. He's got the boys sized right up to the last hair of their stupid heads. But I'll hand you something I've reckoned to hand you a while back, only I wanted to be sure. There's nothing of this truck about the 'hands' of the old mill. It's the new hands you've been collecting from the forests.
Pass me a stick from that fire." Bull did as he was bid. And the missionary's eyes were on the fair head of the man as he leant down over the smouldering embers stewing his own meagre midday meal. Bull Sternford was a creature of vast stature and muscular bulk. It was no wonder that the redoubtable Laval had run up against defeat.
"These people deserve no better treatment after the thing they've done to you. All you need say is, 'You will accept my resignation forthwith. Write that out on a piece of paper, and sign it. Then take it along to Mr. Sternford. Tell him of your decision, and ask him to have it sent by the wireless. He'll do it, my dear.
I gave you, at times, the whole length and breadth, and size, and capacity of the Sachigo of to-day. You got all that stuff. But I've saved up the plum. There's a new man come into it. His name's Sternford Bull Sternford. Guess it's him I need to tell you about before I pass on to the other. It's taken me a while to locate all I needed. And I guess I had luck or I wouldn't have got it all yet."
He might have learned something from his feelings when he had paraded her before Hellbeam. But he had not done so. Now he knew. Now he knew the whole measure of them. And the bitterness of his awakening was maddening. Well, Bull Sternford should get away with no play of that sort at his expense. He warned himself that he was no simple fool to be played with.
A surge of jealous fury was raging through his hot heart and drove him mercilessly. The picture of Nancy, radiantly beautiful, seated at dinner with Bull Sternford had lit a fire of bitter hatred in his Teutonic heart. So he paced the room and permitted the fierce tide to flood the channels of sanity and set them awash with the ready evil of his impulse.
To her imagination it suggested complete failure for her mission. "Is he the owner? Is he Mr. Sternford?" Her questions came in a hushed tone that was almost awed. "No. That's Bat Bat Harker. He's mill-boss." "I see." There was relief in Nancy's tone. But it passed as the seaman continued. "Maybe he's waiting for you though. Are they wise you're coming along?
And he saw a way whereby the smashing of Bull Sternford could be achieved through His mind focused itself, as it was bound to do, upon this thing as it affected his own desires. He, too, was a passionate hater, for all Hellbeam's denial. His thought leapt at once to Nancy McDonald and the man who had thrust himself between him and his desires.
Bull Sternford had been sharing the storm with the sturdy skipper on the bridge. He had been listening to the old man's talk of fierce experience on the coast of Labrador. It had all been interesting to the landsman in view of the present storm, but at last he could no longer endure the exposure of the shelterless bridge.
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