The Gaspards of Pine Croft: A Romance of the WindermereConnor, Ralph
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The Gaspards of Pine Croft: A Romance of the Windermere
Connor, Ralph
British Columbia -- Fiction; Canadian fiction -- 20th century
“Just what I have been saying. We have parted from the future Mrs.
Richard Dalton, unless she’s pre-empted. By Jove! old boy, what about
you? Begad! are you in there? Great Heavens! Now that I think of it, she
was rather terribly broken up over your supposed demise. Jove, that
explains everything—her grief, her rage at me, her curt dismissal. Say
the word, old man, and I back off the scene, hiding my wounds, smiling a
twisted smile, I believe it is, set lips, serene face, while a vulture
gnaws at my inwards. Oh, I’ll play the game——”
“Oh, you bally ass,” said Paul, mounting his horse, “cut it out! We were
boy and girl together.”
“Ah, that’s the fatal fact,” groaned Dalton.
“Don’t be an idiot. She does not care a hoot of a horned owl for me, in
that way, I mean. You are free to make old Sleeman your father-in-law,
for all I care,” said Paul with a grin. “But she is a fine girl, all the
same, mighty good sport.”
“Hold! No need for trumpets on that motif. Through all the corridors of
my soul they are sounding her praises. But you—you! Honor bright now!
Are you out of it? Once and for all. Your hand on it, old man, I mean
it,” said Dalton, pulling up horse and reaching out his hand to Paul.
“Honor bright! Go in and win your father-in-law, for all I care,” said
Paul.
“Oh, darn the father-in-law!” said Dalton, with a grimace. “But thank
the Lord you don’t marry your father-in-law. All right. She may turn me
down. Doubtless will on my first attempt. But hear my solemn vow—well,
never mind. Now for plan of campaign. Tomorrow we approach the old
villain. But stay! He must have some redeeming qualities to be the
father of a girl, a goddess, by Jove! like that. I shall set myself to
discover them. Never fear! I am still your lawyer and shall handle your
case with all fidelity and zeal, but with the soft pedal, my boy, the
soft pedal. I shall smile and smile and make him think I am saving him
from the clutches of stern retributive justice. Those I O U’s, for
instance, according to your father’s record, have obviously been met. It
will be mine to suggest that by some slight aberration of memory that
fact has escaped him. He will fall on my neck with gratitude. Jove! I’m
surrendering a lot of fun, but she’s worth it. Must recast my brief,
eh?”
“Well, that’s your job, and good luck with the girl, Dalton. Here we are
at Pine Croft. A lonely place, old man, but such as it is you are
welcome. Here is Tom. Hello, Tom! All fit?”
“Good! Good!” grunted Tom, running toward Paul and grasping his hand.
“Little chief come again!”
“Tom is one of my father’s old friends, Dalton. Taught me all I know
about the woods and things in them. Tom, my friend, Mr. Dalton.”
“Huh! Good! Good man!” said Tom, giving Dalton a keen look and offering
his hand.
“You are all right, Dalton. Tom is careful with his friendship.”
“Mighty glad to have Tom for a friend,” said Dalton, shaking the old
Indian’s hand warmly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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