Ridgway of Montana (Story of To-Day, in Which the Hero Is Also the Villain) by William MacLeod Raine
page 21 of 246 (08%)
page 21 of 246 (08%)
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well-made covert coat and dainty driving gauntlets. The grace of the
alert, slender figure, the perfect poise of the beautiful little tawny head, proclaimed her distinction no less certainly than the fine modeling of the mobile face. It was a distinction that stirred the pulse of his emotion and disarmed his keen, critical sense. Ridgway could study her with an amused, detached interest, but Hobart's admiration had traveled past that point. He found it as impossible to define her charm as to evade it. Her inheritance of blood and her environment should have made her a finished product of civilization, but her salty breeziness, her nerve, vivid as a flame at times, disturbed delightfully the poise that held her when in repose. When Virginia spoke, it was to ask abruptly: "Is it really his mine?" "Judge Purcell says so." "But do YOU think so--down in the bottom of your heart?" "Wouldn't I naturally be prejudiced?" "I suppose you would. Everybody in Mesa seems to have taken sides either with Mr. Ridgway or the Consolidated. Still, you have an option. Is he what his friends proclaim him--the generous-hearted independent fighting against trust domination? Or is he merely an audacious ore-thief, as his enemies say? The truth must be somewhere." "It seems to lie mostly in point of view here the angle of observation being determined by interest," he answered. "And from your angle of observation?" |
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