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Updated: June 5, 2025
He thought of Bland, lean and white of face, gay of garb, fleeing through the night, his Arabella fiction disowned in the real tragedy that had followed. He thought of Cargan and Max, also fleeing, wrathful, sneering, by Bland's side. He thought of Hayden, jolting down the mountain in that black wagon. So it ended.
Instead I have found a human, rather likable man. I can well understand now why it is that the mob follows him like sheep. However, that is neither here nor there. He is a crook, and must be punished even though I do like him immensely." Mr. Magee smiled over to where the great bulk of Cargan slouched in a chair. "He's a bully old scout," he remarked.
Cargan, speaking as a broad-minded man of the world what does romance mean to you?" The mayor ran his fingers through his graying hair, and considered seriously. "Romance," he reflected. "Well, I ain't much on the talk out of books. But here's what I see when you say that word to me.
I ain't an educated man, Doc I can hire all the educated men I want for eighteen dollars a week but I'm up on Bonaparte." "It seems to me," Miss Norton put in, "I have heard did I read it in a paper? that a picture of Napoleon hangs above your desk. They say that you see in your own career, a similarity to his. May I ask is it true?" "No, miss," replied Cargan.
"Before I came up here to be a hermit," remarked Cargan contemporaneously with the removal of the soup, "which I may say in passing I ain't been able to be with any success owing to the popularity of the sport on Baldpate Mountain, there was never any candles on the table where I et. No, sir. I left them to the people up on the avenue to Mr.
"I ain't one to blame you," sneered Cargan, "for wanting it noticed when you do side-step a lie. Yes, I certainly " "See here, Cargan," blazed Hayden. "Yes, you did speak the truth," put in Miss Thornhill hastily. "You mentioned one word in your definition it was a desecration to drag it in hope. For me romance means only hope.
Then he added, to Cargan: "That's my answer. I'm going to let him in." "Let him in," bellowed the mayor. "Let the hound in. I guess I've got something to say to Mr. Hayden." There came to Magee's ears the sound of opening doors, and of returning footsteps. "How do you do, Cargan," said a voice new to Baldpate. "Cut the society howdydoes," replied the mayor hotly.
And I'm afraid there are a pitiful number in the world to whom it means the same." "We ain't heard from the young woman who started all this fuss over a little word," Mr. Cargan reminded them. "That's right, dearie," said Mrs. Norton. "You got to contribute." "Yes," agreed the girl with the "locks crisped like golden wire," "I will. But it's hard. One's ideas change so rapidly.
He went into the other room, and despite the horrified protests of Lou Max, busied himself amid the ashes of the fireplace. When he had a blaze under way, Mr. Magee came shivering from the other room and held out his hand. "Mr. Cargan," he laughed, "you're a prince." He noted with interest that the mayor's broad shoes were mighty near two hundred thousand, dollars. While Mr.
"You used us pretty rough last night in the snow," Cargan went on. "That's why I ain't disposed to go in for kid gloves and diplomacy this morning. It's my experience that when you're dealing with a man who's got the good old Irish name of Magee, it's best to hit first and debate afterward." "I I used you roughly, Mr. Cargan?" said Magee. "No debate, mind you," protested the mayor.
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