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Cooke, Grace MacGowan, 1863-1944

"The Power and the Glory"

If was his
boast that God Almighty never made a day too hot for him, and to the
marrow of them his rheumatic bones felt and savoured the comfort of this
blistering weather. High up on the road he had noted a small moving
speck that appeared and disappeared as the foliage hid it, or gaps in
the trees revealed it. It was not yet time for the mill operatives to be
out; but as he glanced eagerly in the direction of the buildings, the
gates opened and the loom-fixers streamed forth. Pap had matters of some
importance to discuss with Shade Buckheath, and he was glad to see the
young man's figure come swinging down the street. The two were soon deep
in a whispered discussion, their heads bent close together.
The little speck far up the road between the trees announced itself to
the eye now as a moving figure, walking down toward Cottonville.
"Well, I'll read it again, if you don't believe me," Buckheath said
impatiently. "All that Alabama mill wants is to have me go over there
and put this trick on their jennies, and if it works they'll give us a
royalty of--well, I'll make the bargain."
"Or I will," countered Pap swiftly.
"You?" inquired Shade contemptuously. "Time they wrote some of the
business down and you couldn't read it, whar'd you be, and whar'd our
money be?"
The moving speck on the road appeared at this time to be the figure of a
tall man, walking unsteadily, reeling from side to side of the road, yet
approaching the village.


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