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Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

"Bunch Grass A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch"

_'
"Sign that, an' give it ter me," said Uncle Jap.
Leveson, purple with rage and humiliation, signed it.
* * * * *
At this psychological moment we made our presence known.
"Uncle Jap," said I, "don't you think that document ought to be
witnessed."
"Jee-whillikins! Ef it ain't you. Who's that a-peekin' behind ye?"
"It's me, Jaspar," said Mrs. Panel meekly.
Uncle Jap unlocked the door of the vestry and let us in. Leveson sat
huddled up in his chair. Uncle Jap prodded him with the ancient pistol
which he still held in his hands.
"Can't you offer a lady a chair?" he said testily. Leveson offered his
chair, upon the extreme edge of which Mrs. Panel deprecatingly seated
herself. Uncle Jap eyed her with wrinkled interrogation.
"What in thunder brought ye to San Lorenzy?"
Mrs. Panel twisted her fingers.
"I looked in the drawer, an' I see _that_," she indicated the
weapon, "was missin'."
"Did ye? Now, Lily Panel, you don't mean to tell me that you thought I
was goin' ter murder this feller?"
Mrs. Panel looked at Leveson with an expression which I have seen in
the eyes of foothill mothers, whose children run barefoot, when they
have found a rattlesnake.


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