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Updated: May 15, 2025
Hackley looked askance at one who threw their assiduous attentions quite into the shade. Miss Madison maintained her composure, was oblivious as far as possible, and sometimes when she could not appear blind, looked a little surprised and even offended. He had determined to cast prudence and circumlocution to the winds.
I married Mamie Orrick's little sister!" "Most interesting," said Varney, "as a bit of genealogy, but what's it got to do with Stanhope and the club?" But Mr. Hackley said again, cryptically: "Chuck it." Then, softened by the young man's pleasant ways, and by the windfall of a fortune pinned into his vest: "Be sensible, Stanhope," he added amiably. "I ain't the only one.
Hackley, who had been debating whether or not he should pause for inspiration at the Ottoman, and had just virtuously declared for the negative, shambled over. Ryan eyed him sympathetically. "You look kind o' played out, Jim. What you been doin' with yourself? Come in and take a drop of somethin' to hearten you up some. On the house." "Well," said Mr.
"It's only the boys' fun, of course. Don't you mind them, Jim." "What're you drivin' at?" asked Hackley, bristling a bit. "If you got anything worth sayin' to me, spit it out plain, I say." "Well," laughed Ryan, "if some of the boys was to see you in here putting away a harmless drink or so, o' course they'd say that you was gettin' up your Dutch courage. He, he!" "Dutch courage!" cried Mr.
"And if you should see that friend o' yourn," called Hackley after him, "him that gimme the paste in the jor you c'n just tell him that Jim Hackley is goin' to fix you both, good!" "At your convenience, Hackley." The young man passed on, undisturbed by the dog man's quaint menaces. He did not exactly see himself and Peter getting into trouble at the hands of a crack-brained village humorist.
"Why do you call me Stanhope, Hackley? My name happens to be Laurence Varney." Mr. Hackley's gaze never relaxed. "Chuck it," he said without emotion. "A sensible and eddicated man," he added impersonally, "never lies when a lie couldn't do him no good. If I was you, Stanhope, I wouldn't lose a minute in cuttin' loose from this town." "If I were Stanhope, I daresay I wouldn't either.
Jim Hackley's house is just over on the other corner why, you can see it from here. I want you to know Hackley, sir! A great big whimsical fellow with a fist like a ham and a heart like a woman's.... Ah!..."
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