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Updated: May 4, 2025
They were characters utterly opposed to one another, and yet they were the greatest of friends. The music had ceased again and once more the walls were lined with heated dancers, breathing hard and fanning themselves. Suddenly John Allandale saw a face he was looking for. Murmuring an excuse to Mrs. Abbot, he strode across the room, just as his niece, leaning upon the arm of the Hon.
However, I'll just settle my business in London, and be off to Devonshire to see my poor little deserted Rosy. I suppose she's gone to live at that sea-coast village where Jernam's aunt lives?" "Yes, sir, Allandale or Allanbay or some such name, I think, they call the place." "Yes, Allanbay I remember," answered the captain.
He heard a cheer and a clapping of hands, and he rejoiced. Then the crowd parted and he saw the slim figure of a girl pass down the center of the reeking den. She was clad in buckskin shirt and dungaree skirt. At the sight he muttered a curse. The newcomer was Jacky Allandale. He watched her closely as she moved amongst her uncouth surroundings.
A man who spends his substance and time in playing that fascinating but degrading game called 'Draw Poker' deserves no better title." John Allandale made a "clucking" sound with his tongue. It was his way of expressing irritation. Then he stood erect, and glanced round the room in search of some one.
Patterson, the Allandale pitcher, who came so near to downing us last summer.
You know what your team can do; have we any show against Belleville, or that strong aggregation at Allandale?" "Honestly, between man and man, fellows," said the other, earnestly, "I can see the greatest sort of improvement in your play.
No, no, when it comes to handling Jacky Allandale you leave it to me Ah!" Lablache's ejaculation was the result of the sudden apparition of a dark face peering in at his window. He swung round with lightning rapidity, and before Horrocks could realize what he was doing his fat hand was grasping the butt of a revolver. Then, with a grunt of annoyance, he turned back to his guest.
Then the girl paused and looked far out across the great muskeg. In her abrupt fashion she turned again to the old man. "Uncle," she went on, "tell me truly, do you owe anything to Lablache? Has he any hold upon you?" There was a world of anxiety in her voice as she spoke. John Allandale tried to follow her thought before he answered.
He had not failed to note the other's tone. Lablache laughed quietly, but his keen, restless eyes shot an unpleasant glance at the speaker from beneath their heavy lids. He was a burly man. In bulk he was of much the same proportions as old John Allandale. But while John was big with the weight of muscle and frame, Lablache was flabby with fat. In face he was the antithesis of the other.
Whipple was now rapidly closing the short gap existing between them. At the same time it could be seen that the Allandale runner veered a trifle, as though to give Nick a fairly wide berth when passing. Plenty of fellows noticed this fact, nor did they wonder at it.
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