As Shirley passed him, she looked him squarely in the face,
and in her glance there was neither coldness nor malice.
Bryce felt himself afire from heels to hair one instant, and cold and
clammy the next, for Shirley spoke to him.
"Good morning, Mr. Cardigan."
He paused, turned, and approached her. "Good morning, Shirley," he
replied. "How have you been?"
"I might have been dead, for all the interest you took in me," she
replied sharply. "As matters stand, I'm exceedingly well--thank you.
By the way, are you still belligerent?"
He nodded. "I have to be."
"Still peeved at my uncle?"
Again he nodded.
"I think you're a great big grouch, Bryce Cardigan," she flared at
him suddenly. "You make me unutterably weary."
"I'm. sorry," he answered, "but just at present I am forced to
subject you to the strain. Say a year from now, when things are
different with me, I'll strive not to offend."
"I'll not be here a year from now," she warned him. He bowed. "Then
I'll go wherever you are--and bring you back." And with a mocking
little grin, he lifted his hat and passed on.
CHAPTER XXIII
Though Buck Ogilvy was gone from Sequoia for a period of three weeks,
he was by no means forgotten. His secretary proved to be an
industrious press-agent who by mail, telegraph, and long-distance
telephone managed daily to keep the editor of the Sequoia Sentinel
fully apprised of all developments in the matter of the Northern
California Oregon Railroad Company--including some that had not as
yet developed! The result was copious and persistent publicity for
the new railroad company, and the arousing in the public mind of a
genuine interest in this railroad which was to do so much for the
town of Sequoia.
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