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"Stay right there, Del Hawkes. Move, you redhaided son of a brand blotter, and I'll pump holes in you!" A rifle leveled across the saddle emphasized his sentiments. "Plumb hospitable," grinned Hawkes, coming promptly to a halt. Collins rode slowly forward, his hand on the butt of the revolver that still lay in its scabbard.
Ali! didn't he! There was no misdoubting the quick emotion the shrinking and the alarm with which he heard this room mentioned. "It was in that room that I found these." Tipping up the envelope, I scattered over the face of the blotter a few of the glistening particles I had collected from the place mentioned. He bent over them, astonished.
Bruce Wright looked at the array of letter-trays. The marble paper-weight had been displaced. The tray in which it had lain was empty. He looked at the sheaf of papers in the girl's hand. "I wanted to see," he replied, "whether there was anything here ... on his desk ... which would explain the mystery of his death ..." The girl spread out the papers in her hand on the big blotter.
When he had gone the clerk made a note of it. Then, glancing out the window, he became aware that the Attit mendicant, for some reason dissatisfied, was preparing to move on. Yawning, the clerk resumed his street coat, and went out to lunch, carelessly leaving the door unlocked, and the memorandum of the Greek's invitation exposed upon his blotter.
The man had been drinking like a blue blotter. Had he sense enough left to know his danger? Was his brain steady enough to hold him in check? Nobody could tell that. But your partner gambled on it and won." This was meat and drink to Dave. He artfully pretended to make light of the whole affair in order to stir up the buyer to more details. "I reckon maybe Meldrum was just bluffing. Maybe "
Johnson dipped his brush into the can, and applied a liberal smear of the fluid to the place. Instantly the stuff disappeared. "Blamed porous piece of wood," eyeing me queerly. "Or do you think it's merely porous, Mr. Fenton?" For answer I took a brush and repeatedly daubed the place. It was like dropping ink on a blotter. The wood sucked up the varnish as a desert might suck up water.
In the tent, however, lay a piece of blotting paper with ink-marks on it. It was the material with which Jack had dried his letter. "Anybody got a mirror?" asked Rob. "This blotter may help some if we can read what's on it." "I've got a pocket one," said Andy Bowles, who was somewhat particular about his person and always carried a small toilet case. "That will do; let's have it."
This I did by laying the one over the other, after having made holes where his finger-tips had touched the blotter. The holes in the blotter and the marks outlined upon the shelf coincided exactly. I have already mentioned the man whom I secretly looked upon as standing between me and all preferment.
But even while she is hoping it, the large blue policeman is saying something about "'Sturbance of the peace" to the desk-sergeant, and Oliver is going down on the blotter as Donald Richardson. "You simply must not worry yourself about it so, Nancy, my darling," says Mrs. Ellicott brightly.
You can, perhaps, imagine how he stood and made little marks on a blotter with his pencil while Luck explained just what he would want; and how he clung to the noncommittal manner which is a cashier's professional shield, while Luck smiled his smile to cover his own feeling of doubt and stated that he merely wanted two Mexicans to enter, presumably overpower the cashier, and depart with a bag or two of gold.
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