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Updated: June 24, 2025
"I ain't ben a-burnin' daylight sence navigation closed; an' if they set up all night they won't be up early enough in the mornin' to git ahead of Dave Harney even on a sugar proposition." Over in the corner Vance Corliss leaned against the piano, deep in conversation with Colonel Trethaway.
Naturally, Corliss was not drawn to him, and other men, who knew or had heard of the Opera House occurrence, only accepted him after a tentative fashion. Trethaway had the indiscretion, once or twice, to speak slightingly of him, but so fiercely was he defended by his admirers that the colonel developed the good taste to thenceforward keep his tongue between his teeth.
Vance was dazed for the moment, then he realized that he had knocked the man unconscious, the first in his life, and a pang of delight thrilled through him. Colonel Trethaway thanked him with a look, and shouted, "Get on the outside! Work to the door, Corliss! Work to the door!"
What she can see in St. Vincent " "Her taste is no worse than than that of the rest of the women," Vance broke in hotly. "I am sure that " "Frona could not display poor taste, eh?" Corliss turned on his heel and walked out, and left Colonel Trethaway smiling grimly. Vance Corliss never knew how many people, directly and indirectly, had his cause at heart that Christmas week.
Trethaway shook it slowly. "It is she." Corliss let go, and misgiving shot into his face. "But St. Vincent?" "Is your problem, not mine." "Then Lucile ?" "Certainly not. She played a quixotic little game of her own and botched it beautifully." "I I do not understand." Corliss brushed his brows in a dazed sort of way. Trethaway parted his lips in a superior smile.
There was no reply, and he walked to the bunk softly and pulled the blankets over the engineer. "Yes; what does it all mean?" Corliss stretched lazily, and cocked up his feet on the table. He was not especially interested, but Colonel Trethaway persisted in talking seriously. "That's it! The very thing the old and ever young demand which man slaps into the face of the universe."
The cold rushed in with her to the warmth, taking form in a misty cloud which hung close to the floor, hiding the feet of the dancers, and writhing and twisting until vanquished by the heat. "A veritable frost queen, my Lucile," Colonel Trethaway addressed her. She tossed her head and laughed, and, as she removed her capes and street-moccasins, chatted with him gayly.
And coming as a surprise, he knew it would be a great joy to her. Frona was taken aback by the suddenness of it. Only the other day, it was, that Lucile had made a plea to her for St. Vincent, and now it was Colonel Trethaway! True, there had been a false quantity somewhere, but now it seemed doubly false. Could it be, after all, that Lucile was mercenary?
The two policemen went back to keep order, accompanied by the rest of the allies, while Corliss and the colonel, followed by the Wolf-Skin Cap and Del Bishop, proceeded up the street. "Blood and sweat! Blood and sweat!" Colonel Trethaway exulted. "Talk about putting the vim into one! Why, I'm twenty years younger if I'm a day! Corliss, your hand. I congratulate you, I do, I heartily do.
He even marvelled at the silliness of the men who had burdened him with such responsibilities, simply because of his pull, and he told Trethaway as much. But the colonel, while recognizing his shortcomings, liked him for his candor, and admired him for his effort and for the quickness with which he came to grasp things actual.
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