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Updated: May 29, 2025
And, when Major Venable had settled himself in a big chair and bitten off the end of a cigar and lighted it, what floodgates of reminiscence were opened! For Dan Waterman was one of the Major's own generation, and he knew all his life and his habits.
The waiter came with a bowl of dressing and at the sight of it, the old gentleman forgot Jimmie Featherstone. "Why are you bringing me that stuff?" he cried. "I don't want that! Take it away and get me some vinegar and oil." The waiter fled in dismay, while the Major went on growling under his breath. Then from behind him came a voice: "What's the matter with you this evening, Venable?
And Shandon, tossing back his head as he rode, rushed down towards them, shot between them, turned down the knoll after Hume. The gun in MacKelvey's hand spat flame and lead. The bullet, aimed high, hissed above Shandon's head. "Stop!" cried the sheriff lustily, driving his spurs into his own horse's sides and dashing across the line between Venable and Denbigh. "By God, Red, I'll kill you!"
"Let's have a try at him." And as the man passed near, he hailed him. "Hello! Roberts, where are you going? Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Allan Montague." The man looked at Montague. "Good evening, sir," he said. "How are you, Venable?" "Couldn't be worse, thank you," said the Major. "How are things with you on the Street?" "Dull, very dull," said Roberts, as he passed on.
Alone again, she reached a second time for the telephone, waited for a number, and asked for Mr. Venable. "George, this is Mary," said Mary, a moment later. Silence. "George, darling," said Mary, in a rush, "I am so sorry about Mamma, and I realize how trying it is for you, and I'm so sorry I took what you said at breakfast that way. Don't worry, dear, we'll settle her somehow.
Big Bill had mounted and was riding away, his eyes on the ground, refusing to follow the figure of a man he had come to hate most thoroughly. MacKelvey had gone to his horse and was jerking loose its tie rope. Dart was now close to MacKelvey's side. Venable and Denbigh, conversing swiftly in undertones, looked blankly at each other, then at Dart's noncommittal back.
Afterward, he strolled into the billiard-room, where Billy Price and Chauncey Venable were having an exciting bout; and from there to the smoking-room, where the stout little Major had gotten a group of young bloods about him to play "Klondike."
Major Venable had taken quite a fancy to Montague perhaps the old gentleman liked to have somebody to gossip with, to whom all his anecdotes were new. He had seconded Montague's name at the "Millionaires'," where he lived, and had asked him there to make the acquaintance of some of the other members.
His bright words were broken by paroxysms of suffering. He would merely close his shining blue eyes and wait. He directed his aide to dispose of his official papers. He touched McClellan's hand and the Major's closed over it. "I wish you to have one of my horses and Venable the other." McClellan nodded. "Which of you is the heavier?" "Venable, sir." "All right, give him the gray.
Venable started, stared at him and demanded sharply: "What's that!" But Dart had fled wildly to Jimmie Denbigh, the second starter and had whispered the same words to him. Denbigh stared as Venable had done and then with swift, long strides returned from his horse to Venable's side, close to the starting line.
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