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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Frontier Stories"


After a careful examination of his feet and a few comments addressed
solely to the superior creation, he led him away. Mrs. Tucker would
have liked to part more affectionately from her four-footed compatriot,
and felt a sudden sense of loneliness at the loss of her new friend,
but a recollection of certain cautions of Captain Poindexter's kept her
mute. Nevertheless, the hostler's ostentatious adjuration of "Now then,
aren't you going to bring out that mustang for the Senora?" puzzled
her. It was not until the fresh horse was put to, and she had flung a
piece of gold into the attendant's hand, that the "_Gracias_" of his
unmistakable Saxon speech revealed to her the reason of the lawyer's
caution. Poindexter had evidently represented her to these people as a
native Californian who did not speak English. In her inconsistency her
blood took fire at this first suggestion of deceit, and burned in her
face. Why should he try to pass her off as anybody else? Why should she
not use her own, her husband's name? She stopped and bit her lip.
It was but the beginning of an uneasy train of thought.


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