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Many a paper-covered book had been bound by its purchaser in pasteboard, flimsy enough in quality, yet further strengthened by cloth at the back. Cheap, pirated editions were so many that Harlan wondered whether his uncle had not been wholly without conscience in the matter of book-buying.
I fear I have already outstayed the limitation of a formal visit, such as the first should be, and it is not my desire to intrude upon an author's time. Moreover, my own duties, slight and unimportant as they are in comparison, must ultimately press upon my attention." "Come again," said Harlan, kindly, following him to the door.
She says Claudius is a cat that uncle killed the week before he died, and she thinks you hit me and gave me this bruise on my cheek." "The old lizard," said Harlan, indignantly. "She sha'n't stay!" "Now don't be cross," interrupted Dorothy. "It's all in the family, for your uncle hit me, as you well know.
There was a momentary pause, and then those that were left of Deveny's men moved uneasily. "Does that go for us guys too?" "It's wide open," announced Harlan, cold humor seeming to creep into his voice. "It's your chance to get out of this deal without gettin' what's comin' to you." There was a rush and clatter as Deveny's men joined the men of the Star, who were already on the move.
"Nothing at all," sighed Harlan, "except that we can't afford it." The whole bitter truth was out, now, and he turned away wretchedly, ashamed to meet her eyes. It seemed ages before she spoke. Then she said, in smooth, icy tones: "What was your object in offering to get it for me?" "I spoke impulsively," explained Harlan, forgetting that he had never suggested buying a typewriter.
He shook his head again after bathing the wound. The wound meant death for the man within a short time. Yet Harlan forced some water into the half-open mouth and bathed the man's face with it.
It was that Harlan become his executive officer in the approaching campaign his chief of staff, his companion, his buffer, protecting him from the assaults of the politicians. "Before the campaign really opens there will be three weeks or so in which you may attend to your own affairs. You remember that it was you that dragged me into this, young man!"
"There's Fog-horn Spinney holding forth," Thornton informed Harlan, ironically. "Come along. We mustn't slight any of the candidates." They made way for him. Men grinned up into his face as he passed. They scented possible entertainment when the big boss met the demagogue.
Harlan had ridden directly to the bunkhouse door and dismounted. Red Linton said nothing until Harlan seated himself on a bench just outside the bunkhouse door. Then Linton grinned at him. "There's a geezer come a-wooin'," he said. Harlan glared at the red-haired man a truculent, savage glare that made Linton stretch his lips until the corners threatened to retreat to his ears.
And I'm afraid " "Afraid of what?" "I know it's foolish, but I'm afraid she's going to dig in the cemetery to see if Uncle Ebeneezer is still there. She thinks he's in the cat." For the moment, Harlan thought Dorothy had suddenly lost her reason, then he laughed heartily. "Don't worry," he said, "she won't do anything of the kind, and, besides, what if she did? It's a free country, isn't it?"
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