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Updated: June 22, 2025
Then like the snap of bullets came the staccato voice through the open door of the compartment. "Find out why we are stopping in this beastly hole, Kemp, and get me something cold to drink." Kemp, sailing down the aisle, like a Lilliputian drum major, tripped over Randy's foot. "Beg pardon, sir," he said, and sailed on. Randy looked after him. "'His Master's voice "
The horse laid a shaggy head against Randy's shoulder and edged nearer as the girl patted her nose, then walking over to a large rock she stood close beside it and began to neigh, at the same time looking fixedly at Randy. "Oh you cunning old thing," said Randy with a laugh. "You're inviting me to ride, just as you always do, by walking up to that big flat rock so that I can mount.
"'Tain't every girl I'd be so glad fer," said Mrs. Marvin, "but Randy's such a sweet girl I like ter think of this plan which will, no doubt, give her pleasure." "So do I," said Matilda Jenks, "an' I fer one shall be on hand ter wish her joy." In the little workroom over Barnes' store, Janie Clifton sat humming cheerfully, her needle flying in and out of the long ruffle which she was hemming.
"At all events I don't think I should care to run a race with the flood even on a start of half a dozen miles. For the present we had better follow Randy's advice and keep our eyes and ears open. If we find a suitable place I am in favor of stopping for an hour or two. We are too near home to risk disaster."
Perhaps money doesn't mean as much to us as it does to yon. I wish I had it, yes so that I could give it to her. But love for us means a tent in the desert a hut on a mountain it can never mean what we could buy with money." "Does love mean to her," George's tone was incisive, "a tent in the desert, a hut on a mountain?" Randy's anger flamed.
Soon her tasks were completed, and she went the shortest way across the fields to tell the news, as if she feared that it might spoil if kept too long. Mrs. Jenks, on her way home from the village paused at the gate to ask her friend, Mrs. Marvin, if she had heard the news, and found that she had already been told of the contents of the letter, and was glad to hear of Randy's good luck.
Could it be true, really true that she, Randy Weston, was actually going to Boston? The letter which had filled Randy's heart with delight had come from her friend Helen Dayton, the lovely young girl who had spent one summer as a guest of Mrs. Gray, a near neighbor of the Weston's.
But as he rose to his feet a dark figure suddenly obscured the faint embers of the fire, and a second later came the fall and the report which struck such a terror to Randy's heart as he waited in the darkness of the tent. Ned understood the situation instantly. The unknown prowler had stumbled over the fireplace in his retreat, and the stolen gun had been exploded by striking the stones.
Helen and her aunt were much amused that Randy could answer so readily a remark which was intended to embarrass her, and they realized that Randy's frankness in admitting herself a country girl quite unused to city pleasures, would disarm a girl like Polly, more successfully than any amount of artifice or pretense.
If she thought at all of George Dalton, it was to find the sparkle and shine of his splendid presence dimmed by Randy's radiance. "I hate to say that he is charming," Cope complained. He was a good sport, and he wanted Becky to be happy. But it was not easy to sit there and see those two with the pendulum swinging between them of joy and dreams, and the knowledge of a long life together.
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