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Gregory, Jackson, 1882-1943

"The Bells of San Juan"

He had been her baby brother long
enough; it was time that he became a man. She had supported him until
now, asking nothing of him in return save that he kept out of mischief
a certain percentage of the time. Now he was going to work and help
out. He could go to John Engle and get something to do upon one of
Engle's ranches.
Somewhat to her surprise Elmer responded eagerly. He had been thinking
the matter over and it appealed to him. What he did not tell her was
that he had seen some of the vaqueros riding in from one of the
outlying ranges, lean, brown, quick-eyed men who bestrode high-headed
mounts and who wore spurs, wide hats, shaggy chaps, and who, perhaps,
carried revolvers hidden away in their hip pockets, men who drank
freely, spent their money as freely at dice and cards, and who, all in
all, were a picturesque crowd. Elmer took up his hat and went down to
the bank and had a talk with John Engle. Virginia's eyes followed him
hopefully.
That day Norton was allowed for the first time to receive callers. He
had his talk with Engle, limited to five minutes by Patten who hung
about curiously until Norton said pointedly that he wanted to speak
privately with the banker. Later Florrie came with her mother,
bringing an immense armful of roses culled by her own hands, excited,
earnest, entering the shaded room like a frightened child, speaking
only in hushed whispers.


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