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A COLONIAL FREE-LANCE. By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss, author of "In Defiance of the King." "We have had stories of the Revolution dealing with its statesmen, its soldiers, and its home life, but the good books relating to adventure by sea have been few and far between.
The candle flickered in a sickly fashion that threatened to leave me there lost in the wanderings of the many hallways, and from somewhere there came an occasional violent puff of wind. The cat stuck by my feet, with the hair on its back raised menacingly. I don't like cats; there is something psychic about them. Hotchkiss was still asleep when I got back to the big room.
I stepped in front of her and stood over him. "You will not bring Miss West into the conversation," I threatened, "and she will stay if she wishes." "Oh, very well," he said with assumed indifference. Hotchkiss just then escaped from Richey's grasp and crossed the room. "Did you ever wear glasses?" he asked eagerly. "Never." Sullivan glanced with some contempt at mine.
"May you go home and never come back! If you take Monsieur Blakeley with you, I hope you choke." The lean man nodded gravely. "Prosit," he said. But the fat one leaned back and laughed consumedly. Hotchkiss finished a mental synopsis of his position, and put down his glass.
The Colonel felt a pleasurable relief at this, and a general satisfaction he could not account for. His few inquiries concerning Mr. Hotchkiss only confirmed his own impressions of the alleged lover, a serious-minded, practically abstracted man, abstentive of youthful society, and the last man apparently capable of levity of the affections or serious flirtation.
He poured out the liquor into a glass, left the decanter there, and took the whisky into the library across the hall. Then he broke into a desk, using a paper knife for a jimmy." "Good Lord, Hotchkiss," I exclaimed; "why, it may have been Sullivan himself! Confound your theories he's getting farther away every minute." "It was Sullivan," Hotchkiss returned imperturbably. "And he has not gone.
"What is your report, Major Hotchkiss?" asked General Lee. The major took a cracker box from the heap, put it between the two generals, and spread his map upon it, pointing to Welford's road. The two generals studied it attentively, and then Lee asked Jackson what he would suggest.
Twenty years after Hotchkiss, of Hotchkiss, Morterson Company, died, they found among mislaid papers a memorandum of a loan of thirty thousand dollars to Ah Chun. It had been incurred when Ah Chun was Privy Councillor to Kamehameha II. In the bustle and confusion of those heyday, money-making times, the affair had slipped Ah Chun's mind.
She was named Hotchkiss Anna Matilda Hotchkiss you might know her?
We were all grave enough and very quiet, however, when we reached the large building where Mrs. Conway had her apartment. McKnight left the power on, in case we might want to make a quick get-away, and Hotchkiss gave a final look at the revolver. I had no weapon. Somehow it all seemed melodramatic to the verge of farce.
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