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Updated: June 6, 2025
It is little use for persons to argue who feel so differently. We poor folk do not understand the ways of the gentry." And she held open the door of her cottage for him to pass out. He pressed his slouch-hat more heavily over his eyes, and glared at her from under the shadow of its brim. "You are harbouring a dangerous customer in your house!" he said "A dangerous customer!
Crimmins crushed his slouch-hat in his hand, and slunk into a chair by the window. Tom remained standing. "I see ye like flowers, Mrs. Grogan," he began, in his gentlest voice. "Them geraniums is the finest I iver see" peering under the leaves of the plants. "Guess it's 'cause ye water 'em so much." Tom made no reply. Crimmins fidgeted on his chair a little, and tried another tack.
"About thirty maybe thirty two or three. You can't tell to look at him, he's that battered." "Smooth-shaven well-dressed?" "Yes no beard nor mustache on him. I couldn't see his clothes. His big cape-coat, buttoned up to his chin, hid them and his face, too. He had a slouch-hat on his head with the brim pulled down when he went out." "And you say he's been living off of Mrs. Stanton since "
Suddenly his hand flashed out to snatch off the slouch-hat which hid the fellow's face. Amazingly, a gray wig came with it. This man was not old. He had fair thick hair. For a moment Dorn gazed at the slouch-hat and wig. Then with a fierce action he threw them down and swept a clutching hand for the man. The fellow dodged and, straightening up, he reached for a gun. But Dorn lunged upon him.
The man was an actor and had what is called platform presence. He would walk on the stage, carrying his big, blue cloak over his arm, his slouch-hat in his hand for he clung to these Beecher properties to the last, even claiming that Beecher was encroaching on his preserve in wearing them. He would bow as stiffly and solemnly as a new-made judge.
Banker seldom stayed in one place more than a day at a time, and before he went to a new lodging, that night, he threw away his slouch-hat, which he had rammed into his pocket, for he would not want it again. He had his hair cut short and his face neatly shaved, and when he went to his room, he trimmed his mustache in such a way that it greatly altered the cast of his countenance.
His hands were deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched, his eyes staring straight ahead under the brim of his slouch-hat. His eyes were looking inward, not outward; they did not see his surroundings; they were looking in on the ruin of his life. The present, the future, did not exist; only the past lived lived with all the animalism of a rank growth.
He was dressed as a miner, wore a slouch-hat, was of commanding presence, and his darkly bronzed face, heavily bearded, was full of determination, intelligence, and expression.
He was walking on the side of the way next the river, when, near the Adelphi, he became aware of a man before him, wearing a slouch-hat and a greatcoat a man who appeared to choose the densest part of the throng, to prefer to be rubbed against and hustled rather than not.
Leaning just gently forward out of the perpendicular, easy and nonchalant, with broad slouch-hat brim blown square up in front, and long riata swinging above the head, they swept through the town like the wind! The next minute they were only a sailing puff of dust on the far desert.
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