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Bindloss, Harold, 1866-1945

"Winston of the Prairie"

"
Courthorne laughed. "There's nothing to be gained by pretending to
misunderstand you, but it wouldn't pay me to be resentful when I'm
graciously willing to let you work for me. Still, I have been inclined
to wonder how you were getting on with my estimable relatives and
connections. One of them has, I hear, unbent a trifle towards you, but
I would like to warn you not to presume on any small courtesy shown you
by the younger Miss Barrington."
Winston stood up and set his back to the door. "You heard my terms,
but if you mention that lady again in connection with me, it would suit
me equally well to make good all I owe you very differently."
Courthorne did not appear in any way disconcerted, but, before he could
answer, a man outside opened the door.
"Here's Sergeant Stimson and one of his troopers wanting you," he said.
Winston looked at Courthorne, but the latter smiled. "The visit has
nothing to do with me. It is probably accidental, but I fancy Stimson
knows me, and it wouldn't be advisable for him to see us both together.
Now, I wonder whether you could make it fifteen hundred dollars."
"No," said Winston. "Stay if it pleases you."
Courthorne shook his head. "I don't know that it would. You don't do
it badly, Winston."
He went out by another door, almost as the grizzled sergeant came in
and stood still, looking at the master of the homestead.
"I haven't seen you since I came here, Mr. Courthorne, and now you
remind me of another man I once had dealings with," he said.


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