Because this can be appealed, and taken up
and up, and reopened because of some technical error--oh, as
Jenny Wren says in--in--"
"'Our Mutual Friend?'" Good Indian suggested unexpectedly.
"Oh, you've read it!--where she always says: '_I_ know their
tricks and their manners!' And I do, from being so much with
daddy in the office and hearing him talk shop. I know that,
without a single bit of justice on their side, they could carry
this case along till the very expense of it would eat up the
ranch and leave the Harts flat broke. And if they didn't fight
and keep on fighting, they could lose it--so there you are."
She shut the book with a slam. "But," she added more brightly
when she saw the cloud of gloom settle blacker than before on his
face, and remembered that he felt himself at least partly to
blame, "it helps a lot to have the law all on our side, and--"
She had to go then, because the dispatcher was calling, and she
knew it must be a train order. "We'll read up a little more, and
see just what are the requirements of placer mining laws--and
maybe we can make it a trifle difficult for those eight to
comply!" she told him over her shoulder, while her fingers
chittered a reply to the call, and then turned her attention
wholly to receiving the message.
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