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He had imagined that Holman Sommers, being a "highbrow," was a little, dried-up man with a bald head and weak eyes that made spectacles a part of his face; an insignificant little man well past middle life, with a gray beard, Starr saw him mentally. He should have known better than to let his imagination paint him a portrait of any man, in those ticklish times.
Then the other man walked forward and stood beside the little table with the glass and pitcher of water on it. Missy felt constrained to cast a look at the Honourable Ridgeley Holman Dobson.
The tough moss upon the stone was fully four inches long, and covered the slab completely. In vain we stamped around looking for a possible hiding place. The massive block didn't offer a cranny that a lizard could hide in, and with an unsolved mystery upon our hands we descended to the ground. "What do you make of it?" asked Holman. I shook my head. The enigma baffled me.
He could look into her tawny brown eyes now without any emotion whatever. "You don't smell drunk," said Helen May suddenly and very bluntly, "and you don't look crazy. What is the matter with you, Starr of the desert? Is this a joke, or what?" "It didn't strike me as any joke," Starr told her passionlessly. "Thirteen of them I rounded up. Holman Sommers was the head of the whole thing.
But if you fancy Phillis Holman, and can get her to fancy you, my lad, it shall go different with you, Paul, to what it did with your father. I took counsel with myself very rapidly, and I came to a clear conclusion. 'Father, said I, 'if I fancied Phillis ever so much, she would never fancy me.
After all, concurrently may it not, be said that this colour instinct aspect of cosmically conceived romanticism is never wilfully vulgarized. For its incomparable, iconographical purpose it exists, and is as intrinsically useful and serviceable to the scheme as the figures which admirably illustrate the pictures of Hogarth and Holman Hunt.
Whereas they made Holman Sommers look like a great man indulging himself in the luxury of old clothes on a holiday. He seemed absolutely unconscious that he and his rattly buggy and the harness on the horse were all very shabby, and that the horse was fat and pudgy and scrawny of mane; and for that she admired him.
One day I was going out at the gateway, and saw a strange figure, with a long white beard and a Spanish cap, mounted on a sorry horse, and at once recognized it to be that of Holman, the blind traveller. "How do you do, Mr. Holman?" said I. "I know that voice well." "I last saw you in Aleppo," said I; and he at once named me. I then got him off his horse, and into quarters.
"I'm just thinking we should have stopped this business before it got this far," muttered Holman, as he reached closer to get a light for his cigarette. "What should we have done?" I asked. "I don't know," he growled. "We should have done something though. Pity we didn't lose Leith overboard with your friend Toni." "What's wrong now? Has anything happened?" "No, nothing has happened," he replied.
"Not so fast!" rapped out the Colonel, fixing the officer with steely eyes. "Mr. Holman is under my protection. Ah, thank you, Wiley here is your money, Mr. Blount, with fifty dollars more for interest. And now I will thank you for that stock." "Do you set yourself up," demanded Blount with sudden bluster, "as being above the law?" "No, sir, I do not," replied the Colonel tartly.
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