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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Frontier Stories"

Renshaw. I've told Rosey she must
make a visit to the old Ranch. Once I've got her thar safe, I reckon I
kin manage Mr. Ferrers and any number of Chinee niggers he kin bring
along."
Renshaw remained for a few moments lost in thought. Then rising
suddenly, he grasped Mr. Nott's hand with a frank smile but determined
eyes. "I haven't got the hang of this, Mr. Nott--the whole thing gets
me! I only know that I've changed my mind. I'm _not_ going to
Sacramento. I shall stay _here_, old man, until I see you safe through
the business, or my name's not Dick Renshaw. There's my hand on it!
Don't say a word. Maybe it is no more than I ought to do--perhaps not
half enough. Only remember, not a word of this to your daughter. She
must believe that I leave to-night. And the sooner you get her out of
this cursed ship the better."
"Deacon Flint's girls are goin' up in to-night's boat. I'll send Rosey
with them," said Nott, with a cunning twinkle. Renshaw nodded. Nott
seized his hand with a wink of unutterable significance.
Left to himself, Renshaw tried to review more calmly the circumstances
in these strange revelations that had impelled him to change his
resolution so suddenly.


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