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I jest keep a little on hand for my particular friends that I can trust. By the way, Mr. Macpherson, what are you goin' to do with that homestead you took up?" "Hold it. Why?" "I thought I might run across a buyer sometime and I wondered what you asked." A hardness came into Wallie's face and Tucker added: "I wasn't goin' to charge you any commission you've had bad luck and "
Either the woman must move, or he would but the latter he considered a remote possibility, since he realized fully that a multi-millionaire, socially well connected, is an asset which no hotel will dispense with lightly. The frequency with which Mr. Penrose had presumed upon this knowledge had much to do with Wallie's delight as he had listened to the encounter.
Then she cried aloud incredulously: "He's going to try that!" And added in a frightened whisper: "He can't do it! He can never do it!" Wallie's horse, which had been running at the steer's shoulder, missed his hand on the reins and lagged a little, so that the distance between them was such as to make what he meant to attempt seemingly impossible.
Wallie's eyes were blazing when he answered: "I shall! I shall never be beholden to you for another penny. When I wanted to do something for myself you wouldn't let me. You're not fair, Aunt Mary!" Pale and breathing heavily in their emotion, they looked at each other with hard, angry eyes eyes in which there was not a trace of the affection which for years had existed between them.
Wallie's short laugh was cynical. "It might drown somebody half a mile from me but it wouldn't settle the dust in my dooryard." "I see you're gittin' homesteaditis," Pinkey commented, "but jest the same them clouds look like they meant business." Wallie felt a glimmer of hope in spite of himself and he scrutinized the clouds closely. "They do look black," he admitted.
Git into your clothes, Gentle Annie, and we'll smoke 'em up proper." "I don't see how it could happen," said Wallie, his voice trembling. "The fence was good!" "If it had been twenty feet high 'twould 'a' been all the same," Pinkey answered. "Them cattle was drove in." "You mean " Wallie's mouth opened. "Shore Canby!
Wallie Ascher had grinned that winning flash lighting up his dark, keen face. "No. I learned that in another school." Wallie Ascher's early career in the theatre, if repeated here, might almost be a tiresome repetition of Hahn's beginning. And what Augustin Daly had been to Sid Hahn's imagination and ambition, Sid Hahn was to Wallie's.
Unable to refrain any longer, Wallie called to ask how much farther. "Twelve miles, or some such matter." Pinkey added: "I'm so hungry I don't know where I'm goin' to sleep to-night. That restaurant is reg'lar stummick-robbers." By four o'clock every muscle in Wallie's body was aching, but his fatigue was nothing as compared with his hunger.
Then, one day in the country while he trudged afoot to make one of his rare professional visits, they went past together in Wallie's bright roadster. The sheer shock of it sent him against a fence, staring after them with an anger that shook him. Late in November Elizabeth went away for a visit, and it gave him a breathing spell.
He was not a strong swimmer at best, and even if he managed to get to the bank its sides were too high and steep for him to climb out without assistance. He looked at Wallie's implacable face, but he saw no weakening there, it was a matter of a moment more when the horse would go under and come up feet first. "Throw me the rope!" His voice vibrating with chagrin and rage admitted his defeat.
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