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Out of the church-yard, side by side, with bowed heads, walked Bud Yarebrough and Friedrich von Rittenheim, the man whose fragile honor had been preserved by Bob's act, and the man whose life he had given his own to save. Carl von Sternburg Mrs. Morgan and the Doctor had insisted upon giving to von Rittenheim Gray Eagle and Bob's buggy.
The sunlight swept across the floor as far as Sydney's feet, and glinted upon the silver spur at her left heel. It crept up to her radiant face and glowing hair. As she held the little baby in her strong young arms, she stood transfigured like an angel of old in the eyes of Friedrich von Rittenheim as he walked up the trail that served as an approach to the cabin.
It is truly pleasurable to see her," murmured von Rittenheim, though his expression was one of approval rather than delight. "Do you know, Mrs. Carroll, have I told you how much this Aussicht view, is it not? and the position of your house make me to think of my home?
At first no one knew just how to take him, even to the calling of his name. Baron Friedrich Johann Ludwig and a half-dozen more von Rittenheim was a good deal to compass. The farmers and the negroes finally settled upon "Mr. Baron." As to "taking him," it was he who took them, and by storm.
Morgan and some business for the firm, he betook himself to the hotel and asked for the register. He was running over the names when he heard some one behind him saying, in German, "It is my von Rittenheim!
Yet it was clear that he felt himself to have the whip-hand of the situation, and Hilda's manner acknowledged it. Across the room the others were talking together, though von Rittenheim was not without preoccupation. "You don't seem glad to see me," von Sternburg said, in German. Hilda ignored his opening.
"An' Ah ain' afraid o' yo' doin' that," he continued to himself, as he turned into the side road that led to his cabin. "You-all's had enough o' them folkses; an' you ain' that kind, either." Von Rittenheim Collects his Rent It was in the cool of the next day's afternoon that von Rittenheim, with 'Gene Frady, who was working for him, drove up to the field where was piled his rent corn.
"Very fair whisky," approved the stranger. "Do you get it round here?" "I make it." "You do?" with a sudden contraction of the eyelids. Von Rittenheim saw nothing but his own regret at his necessarily meagre hospitality, for which he tried to make amends by being increasingly agreeable. "You will like to see my little affair?" he asked, after describing the primitive manufacture of his still.
About a month ago, it seems, your friend and neighbor entertained a guest who proved to be, not an angel in disguise, but a deputy-marshal on his way to Asheville. Not knowing the official position of his visitor, von Rittenheim sold him a quart of whisky of his own vintage.
Also, he admires you." "Ah'm grateful for the compliment!" "You could do anything with him." "Ah'm doin' what Ah wan' to with him." Von Rittenheim looked at his opponent in disgust, and fell back upon his last argument. "You know well what are the chances of your getting caught. You've been caught before." "Yes, but Ah won' be this time.
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