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Joe Rix leaned forward, and to emphasize his point he stabbed one dirty forefinger into the fat palm of his other hand. "You just start thinkin' back," he said solemnly, "and you'll remember that Donnegan has done some pretty slick things." Lester added with a touch of contempt: "Like shootin' down Landis one day and then sittin' down and havin' a nice long chat with you the next.
Landis already suspected him; Landis, with the feeling that he had been robbed, would do his best to kill the thief. He might take a chance with Landis, if it came to a fight, just as he had taken a chance with Lewis. But how different this case would be! Landis was no dull-nerved ruffian and drunkard.
She laughed a great deal, and in a high key, and she and her friends told stories which made Montague wish to move out of the way. Mrs. Landis had for some reason taken a fancy to Alice, and invited her home to lunch with her twice during the show.
Landis flung one glance over his shoulder at the big clock, whose pendulum worked solemnly back and forth. "In five minutes," said Donnegan, "it will be eleven o'clock. And when it's eleven o'clock the clock will chime. Now, Landis, you and I shall sit down here like gentlemen and drink our liquor and think our last thoughts.
"Why, Martin ach, Martin he kissed my hand," she said softly to herself. "Just like they do in the stories about knights knights always kiss their ladies' hands. Ach, I know what I'll do! I'll play Martin Landis is my knight and I'm his lady grand. Wish Mom was here, then I'd ask her if she knows anything about what knights do and how the ladies ought to act to them. But she's in Lancaster.
Landis went back to spreading thick slices of bread with apple butter while three pairs of eager hands were reaching out to her. A tiny wail which soon grew in volume sounded from a room in the front of the house. "The baby's awake," said Amanda. "Dare I fetch him?" "Yes. Go right in."
The blow of the slug, like the punch of a strong man's fist, knocked the victim out of his chair to the floor. He lay clutching at his shoulder. "Gentlemen," said Donnegan, rising, "is there a doctor here?" That was the signal for the rush that swept across the floor and left a flood of marveling men around the fallen Landis.
She has a whole host of doless relatives, whom she props up whenever they need it, and," as though an afterthought, "they always need it." "Do you know if Landis is coming down?" asked Miss Rice a few moments later, turning to Elizabeth. "I really came purposely to see her. We've been a little uncertain about her finishing the year, but last week I sold four hundred bushels of potatoes.
"After 'The House of Mirth' a New York society novel has to be very good not to suffer fearfully by comparison. 'The Fighting Chance' is very good and it does not suffer." Cleveland Plain Dealer. "There is no more adorable person in recent fiction than Sylvia Landis." New York Evening Sun. "Drawn with a master hand." Toledo Blade. "An absorbing tale which claims the reader's interest to the end."
"It can't be!" groaned Landis. "Lord Nick is alive," said Donnegan. "And I have not come here to torment you; I have only come to ask that you let me speak with you alone for a moment, Lou!" He watched her face intently. All the cabin was in deep shadow, but the golden hair of the girl glowed as if with an inherent light of its own, and the same light touched her face.
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