Dennison Grant: A Novel of To-day

Transley’s men had repaired such machines as they could and returned to work. The clatter of mowing machines filled the valley; the horses were speeded up to recover lost time....

Zen thought over the events of that evening until they became a blur in her memory. Her principal recollection was that she had been quite swept off her feet. Transley had inter...

Just as the first flush of dawn mellowed the East Grant heard the pounding of horses’ feet and the sound of voices borne across the valley. They rapidly approached; he could tel...

Grant’s first concern was to get a grasp of the business affairs which had so unexpectedly come under his direction. To accomplish this he continued the practice of the Landson...

Grant spent his Sunday forenoon in an exhaustive house-cleaning campaign. Bachelor life on the farm is not conducive to domestic delicacy, and although Grant had never abandoned...

The rancher had ridden into the Canadian plains country from below “the line” long before barbed wire had become a menace in cattle-land. From Pincher Creek to Maple Creek, and...

Transley and Linder were so early about on the morning after their conversation with Y.D. that there was no opportunity of another meeting with the rancher’s wife or daughter. T...

When Zen came to herself it was with a sense of a strange swimming in her head. Gradually it resolved itself into a sound of water about her head; a splashing, fighting water; t...

Grant read the account of her wedding in the city papers a day or two later. It was given the place of prominence among the Christmas Day nuptials. He read it through twice and...

When Zen awoke next morning the mowing machines of Transley’s outfit were already singing their symphony in the meadows; she could hear the metallic rhythm as it came borne on t...

“I don’t notice that you have ever figured very high in profits on your own account,” Grant retorted. “Your usefulness has been in making them for other people. I suppose if I w...

Linder, foreman and head teamster, straightened up from the half load of new hay in which he had been awaiting the final word, tightened the lines, made an unique sound in his t...

Four years of war add only four years to the life of a man according to the record in the family Bible, if he happen to spring from stock in which that sacred document is preser...

Sitting on his veranda that evening while the sun dropped low over the mountains and the sound of horses munching contentedly came up from the stables, Grant for the twentieth t...

Grant’s first visit to the home of his private stenographer was not his last, and the news leaked out, as it is sure to do in such cases. The social set confessed to being on th...

Whatever may have been Grant’s philosophy about the unwisdom of creating a situation which had no way out he found himself looking forward impatiently to Wednesday evening. An h...

The next day Wilson paid his usual visit to the field where Grant was plowing, and again was he the bearer of a message. With much difficulty he managed to extricate the envelop...

“No better than you did last night,” retorted Grant, springing out of bed. “Let me see.... yes, I still have it clearly. I’ll tell you about it sometime, if you can stay awake....

Promptly at six Linder drew his automobile up in front of the Transley summer home with Grant and Murdoch on board. Wilson had been watching, and rushed down upon them, but befo...

Linder scratched his tousled brown hair reflectively as he gazed after the retreating form of Transley. His hat was off, and the perspiration stood on his sunburned face--a face...

“How about a ride over to the South Fork this afternoon, Zen?” said Y.D. to his daughter the following morning. “I just want to make sure them boys is hittin’ the high spots. Th...

He led her into the whim-room and turned up the lamp. The lad was sleeping soundly, his teddy-bear clasped in his arms, his little pink and white face serene under the magic ski...