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Updated: June 24, 2025
"I don't see how you dare to speak of it, seeing what the circumstances are," declared the father; there was a murmur of corroboration from the mother. "It's a cheeky insult to all concerned," shouted Britt. "No, it's my best attempt to be honest and open and a man," insisted Vaniman. "I have left no chance for gossip to bring tales to you, Mr. Harnden." But Mr.
"I've heard about him," said the colonel. "Optimist? So am I. Get in touch with him and tell him to come to my new town. He'll have something that he can really optimize over." Colonel Wincott sedulously kept his attention off the two who rode on the back seat; he obliged Mrs. Harnden to do the same. After a time the trotting nag overtook the trailers of the procession.
"Harnden, that man hasn't a cent in the world," Britt declared. "He sends away every sou markee he can spare from his salary. He buys checks from me. I can show 'em." Out came Britt's big wallet; he threw down the paper-covered novel. "I support my mother and I'm putting my young sister through school," admitted the cashier. "Mr. Britt is right.
"If anything is wrong with the accounts, you may most certainly look to me, Mr. Starr. I assume full responsibility. I have found Miss Harnden to be most accurate." "I ought to have been through with this small bank and away by night," grumbled the examiner. "But I'm going to give you a fair show, Vaniman, by waiting over.
He knew well the dry quality of Hexter's satirical humor and perceived that the notary was indulging in that humor. "Yes, Joe Harnden is quite an operator, son. Jumps, as I have said. A good optimist. Jumps up so high every day that he can see over all the bothersome hills into the Promised Land of Plenty.
Harnden did not look to right or left as his horse trotted past. He did not appear to be interested in the affairs of Egyptians that day even in the case of the town's chief executive. When Harnden was hailed raucously he did not pull up, though he heard his name. After a few moments a gun banged behind him.
The public, however, did declare behind his back that he must have invented something in the way of a system to be able to wear those clothes and drive that hitch. To be sure, there were some who insisted that the matter of Vona was still potent with Britt and that Britt's money was behind Harnden.
Her querulous tone fitted her lackadaisical looks; her house dress had too many flounces on it; she had a paper-covered novel in her hand. "Yes, I am tired," declared Britt, mournfully. "Sort of worn out and all discouraged. I feel terribly alone in this world." "Too bad!" Mrs. Harnden cooed her sympathy, affectedly.
Britt went early, but not early enough to catch Vona before she left for the rehearsal. Although it had been particularly easy to get Mr. Britt to come to the house, Mr. Harnden was not finding it easy to hold his prospective backer's attention. The patent project under consideration was what the inventor called "a duplex door," designed to keep kitchen odors from dining rooms. Mr.
"Well, I'll be dimdaddled!" grunted Mr. Bangs. His was the only comment on the departure of Prophet Elias from the land of Egypt that is to say, the only comment passed by the group in front of Files's tavern. Tasper Britt went his way toward the Harnden home, his lodgings still. Usial Britt closed his cottage door. Bangs found the sticky chill of the fog uncomfortable.
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