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"The game that is to make Sunrise the champion college in Kansas, and you our college champion?" Vic's lips suddenly grew gray. "Friday, the thirteenth auspicious date!" he answered. "But I may not play in it. I might fail." "Oh, we must win this game, anyhow, and you never do fail. Don't forget the name your mother gave you. Do you remember when you told me that?"
She's the happiest kid alive." "And grandmother has even stood for that! It's a perfect scream to hear her bragging about 'my son's farm. She will be talking about 'my daughter's husband' next." "Queen Vic's all right," Quin declared stoutly. "Her only trouble is that she's been trying to play baseball by herself; she's got to learn team-work."
Once she moved a little to one side and Vic caught the glint of two eyes, red-stained, which were fixed undeviatingly upon her face. Mixed with Vic's alarm at the great fighting beast was a peculiar uneasiness, for there was something uncanny in the determination, the fearlessness of this infant.
We get pretty close to the edge sometimes and never know how near we are to destruction," Vic had said to Elinor in here on the April day. It was not Vic's guardian angel, but little Bug whose white face was thrust between him and his victim, and the touch of a soft little hand and the pleading child-voice that cried: "Don't kill him, Vic. He's frough of fighting now. Don't hurt him no more."
He looked very young and very unruly, and as though several years of grace were still left to Helen May before she need trouble herself about his manhood. "Not for mine," he repeated stubbornly. "You can go if you want to, but I'm going to stay in pictures." No film star in the city could have surpassed Vic's tone of careless assurance. "Listen! Dad was queer along towards the last.
Betty had sent Hansen, dressed manifestly for the festival, to gloat over Vic in Lorrimer's place. He was at it already. "All turned out for the dance, Blondy, eh? Takin' a girl?" "Betty Neal," answered Blondy. "The hell you are!" inquired Lorrimer, mildly astonished. "I thought why, Vic's back in town, don't you know that?" "He ain't got a mortgage on what she does."
Glass was treating in turn, and again the brimming drink went down Vic's throat and left his brain clear, wonderfully clear. He saw through Betty Neal now; she had purposely played off Blondy against him, to make them both jealous. "Won't you join us, Dad?" the sheriff was saying to Lew Perkins, and Vic Gregg smiled. He understood.
Bond clinched his fists but did not strike. "What are you after now?" he asked. "You are through with the Burleighs; Vic settled you and you know it." Even with the words the clutch of Vic's fingers on the outlaw's throat seemed to choke him now. "If my last Burleigh is gone," he growled with an oath, "I'm not done yet. There's Elinor Wream. Don't forget that her mother was my adopted sister.
In mid-channel they were met by De Vic's vessels with the French banner displayed, at which sight the English commander was so wroth that he forthwith ordered a broadside to be poured into the audacious foreigner; swearing with mighty oaths that none but the English flag should be shown in those waters.
As for me, I was good as gold, and Vic threw me approving glances, for which I was grateful, for I like being in Vic's good graces. She doesn't often bother with me much, but when she does, she is so sweet it makes up for everything and she knows that well. I could hardly wait to hear her "explanations," and so I was glad Mrs.
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