Poor, Dear Margaret Kirby by Kathleen Thompson Norris
page 55 of 421 (13%)
page 55 of 421 (13%)
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Stumpy, and tell the operator to plug away at Barville until he gets
some one to take a message to Pitcher's barn. It'll be a good three hours before they even git this far," she continued doubtfully, as the old man eagerly rattled away, "and then they've got to get down to Henderson's; but it may be an all-night search! Now, lemme see who else we can git. Deefy, over to the saloon, wouldn't be no good. But there's Adams's Chinee boy, he's a good strong feller; you stop for him, and git Gran'pa Barry, too; he's home to-night!" "Look here, Mrs. Bates," said Mary Bell, "shall I go?" The old woman speculatively measured the girl's superb figure, her glowing strength, her eager, resolute face. Mary Bell was like a spirited horse, wild to be given her head. "You're worth three men," said the storekeeper. "Got light boots?" "Yes," said the girl, thrilled and quivering. "You run git 'em!" said Mrs. Bates, "and git your good lantern. I'll be gitting another lantern, and some whiskey. Poor little fellers! I hope to God they're all sneakin' home--afraid of a lickin'!--this very minute. And Mary Bell, you tell your mother I'll close up, and come and sit with her!" It was a sorry search-party, after all, that presently rattled out of town in the old wagon. On the back seat sat the impassive and good-natured Chinese boy, and a Swedish cook discovered at the last |
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