The Hounds and the Fury Read Online Free

source.” She chuckled.
    “This is Virginia.” A note of sarcasm crept into his voice.
    “You’re right. Some will criticize you, but they’ll end the sentence with ‘Bless his heart.’”
    “Right,” he agreed.
    “Sam, what’s the horse’s name?”
    “Matador.”
    “Bold name.” She liked it.
    Sam lowered his voice, even though Sister was sure he was alone. “One other thing, Crawford’s always been on good terms with Jason Woods. Better terms now.”
    “Oh.” Sister wondered what Crawford’s real interest was in the good-looking doctor. “Maybe he’s sick.”
    “No. But Jason, Crawford, and the Bancrofts are the big-money people in Jefferson Hunt. No secret that Crawford will leave.”
    “We all figured that.” Sister actually felt some relief that Crawford would be out of the club.
    “I suspect he’ll pull Jason with him. I know the doctor hasn’t been in the club but so long. He’s the kind of member people want. Rich.”
    “Yes.” Sister paused. “And often those members will give more as they settle in, really become part of the club.”
    “All I know is Crawford is up to something.” He waited a beat. “See you on Matador.”
    After the call, Sister checked each of the fires as the water heated. She poured herself a restorative cup of orange pekoe. While the tea warmed her she called the number in Maryland. Once she learned that the top line of the gelding went back to War Admiral and the bottom line traced to Golden Apple, a chestnut mare born in 1945, she made an appointment to have a vet check the horse. There are some people with whom you do business on their word; Sam was one. If he said it was a good horse, it was. Add the “staying” blood, and Matador was probably more than good. She made a note to send Sam a finder’s fee if this worked out. Sam needed all the money he could get. Next she called a vet she knew in Carroll County, Maryland. The sky had darkened; she piled her gear back on and went out to bring in the horses.
    Raleigh and Rooster tagged along.
    “You’ll be cold, paws wet, I’ll be warm as toast,”
Golly called after them.
    “You’re a big hairball the devil coughed up,”
Raleigh replied over his shoulder.
    Incensed, Golly grabbed Raleigh’s big knotted rawhide chew, but it was too big for her to damage it. She shredded one of Sister’s needlepoint pillows instead.
    As Sister and Shaker finished the day’s chores and hurried in for barley soup, Samson “Sonny” Shaeffer, president of Farmers Trust Bank and a dear friend of Sister’s, received a phone call.
    “Sonny, it’s Garvey Stokes.”
    “How are you doing in this storm?”
    “The kids love it,” Garvey replied. “They’ve worn me out.”
    “By tomorrow every house in the county will have a snowman.”
    “Yeah,” Garvey agreed. “I called to do a little business.”
    “Sure. Anything I can help you with now?”
    “Well, I’ve got a shot at tying up fifteen tons of aluminum, very high grade at $1,680 per metric ton. The Chinese are snapping up everything. I think by spring the price per metric ton will top out at $2,300. Of course, you never know, but despite the slowdown in demand by the auto makers for aluminum, I still think prices will climb. So I was hoping for a modest expansion to the business line of credit.”
    “We should be able to accommodate you.”
    “Business has been great, booming,” Garvey added.
    “Once we can all get back to our offices, I’ll send over the paperwork.”
    “Okay.”
    After a few more pleasantries, Sonny hung up. He was glad to have Garvey’s account, Aluminum Manufacturers, Inc. The company made everything from window frames to the small caps on top of broom handles. It was one of the largest employers in the area. For the past five years Garvey had been buying up smaller companies in Virginia as well.
    A good businessman, he hired competent people and trusted them to do their job while he concentrated on creating more business, seeking