His family originally lived in this
country. The old Thane farm is almost directly across the river
from Windomville. Courtney's father was born there, but went east
to live during the first Cleveland administration. He had some kind
of a political appointment in Washington, and married a Congressman's
daughter from Georgia, I think--anyhow, it was one of the Southern
states. He is really quite fascinating, Mary. You would lose your
heart to him, I am sure."
"And, pray, have you offered any reward for yours?" inquired Mary
Blythe, smiling as she studied her friend's face rather narrowly.
Alix met her challenging gaze steadily. A sharper observer than
Mary Blythe might have detected the faintest shadow of a cloud in
the dark, honest eyes.
"When I lose it, dear, I shall say 'good riddance' and live happily
ever after without one," she replied airily.
The next morning she started off with her guests for a drive down
the river, to visit the old fort and the remains of the Indian
village. Stopping at the grain elevator, she beckoned to Charlie
Webster. The fat little manager came bustling out, beaming with
pleasure.
"How is Mr. Thane today, Charlie?" she inquired, after introducing
him to the Blythes.
Charlie pursed his lips and looked wise. "Well, all I can say is,
he's doing as well as could be expected. Temperature normal, pulse
fluctuating, appetite good, respiration improved by a good many
cusswords, mustard plaster itching like all get out,--but otherwise
he's at the point of death.
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