Christine Blashford
speaker
728 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Jul 2026
last heard 21 Jul
Christine Blashford’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Jul 2026 with 1.
Appearances
To whom shall I turn over the post fund, sir?
I do not care to have you transfer funds or anything, Field.
This is but a temporary affair, one that will take you away perhaps a fortnight.
I prefer that it should be permanent, sir, was the young officer's sudden interruption, and though his eyes were blazing he spoke with effort, his face still white with mingled sense of indignity and indignation.
Gently, Mr Field, said Webb, with unruffled calm, even while uplifting a hand in quiet warning, we will consider that, if need be, on your return.
Meantime, if you desire, I will receipt to you for the post fund or any other public money.
That is the trouble, sir.
The best I can do is give you an order for it.
Post treasurers, as a rule, have not had to turn over their funds at four o'clock in the morning, which statement was true enough, however injudicious it might be to brew at it.
Mild mannered commanding officers sometimes amaze their subordinates by most unlooked for and unwelcome eruptiveness of speech when they feel that an unwarrantable liberty has been taken.
Webb did not take fire, he turned icy.
The quartermaster's safe can be opened at any moment, Mr Field, said he, the blue grey eyes glittering dangerously.
I presume your funds are there.
It was because the quartermaster would not open it at any moment that I took them out and placed them elsewhere, hotly answered Field, and not until then did Webb remember that there had been quite a fiery talk, followed by hyperborean estrangement between his two staff officers, and now as the only government safe at the post was in the office of the quartermaster, and the only other one was Bill Hay's big Phoenix at the store, the
It dawned upon the major that it was there Mr Field had stowed his packages of currency, a violation of orders pure and simple, and that was why he could not produce the money on the spot.
Webb reflected.
If he let Ray start at dawn and held field back until the trader was astir, it might be eight o'clock before the youngster could set forth.
By that time Ray would be perhaps a dozen miles to the northward, and with keen eyed Indian scouts noting the march of the troop and keeping vigilant watch for possible stragglers, it might be sending the lad to certain death.
For Plodder had said in so many words the Sioux about him had declared for war, had butchered three ranchmen on the dry forks.
had fired on and driven in his herd guards and wood choppers, and what started with Lanewolf's big band would spread to Stabbers Little One in less than no time, and what spread to Stabbers would soon reach a host of the Sioux.
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