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And then he laughed softly, as if at himself. "It's funny, too. I suppose he's like all of them, drunk every pay-day while his money holds out, and a familiar face at every brothel. And yet from the way he looked at me " He shook his head, not in anger but amiable meditation. "It's funny," he repeated, and let it go at that. So it remained a conundrum to Fox-face.
"Oh, I'm leavin' the fox-face for luck," Dillon nodded at the Colonel. But Schiff pointed reverently at the tear in the paper, as Dillon only went on pushing his sack deep down in his pocket, while Mac lifted the Examiner. All but the two millionaires bent forward and scrutinised the table.
If he wants to know who D. is, better advise Larrabie to call me 'Denver' 'Denver' Smith will do. Just a disinterested party." And at that Fox-face was instantly, visibly consumed with curiosity. The reporter looked almost as though he understood. "He might not approve of me," he chose to be downright, and enlighten Fox-face at the same time. "He doesn't now, as it is."
Therefore Devereau but you've guessed it. Devereau is Fox-face of the private car. Devereau is the toad. It was dark at the end of the platform. He could not see that her eyes were dilated. He laid his hand upon her. She couldn't run; her legs felt frozen and useless. "No hurry, dearie," said Devereau. "Let's talk this over. Maybe you'll be glad you missed your train."
With the whole train watching him he rode from sight without even putting up a hand in farewell to those at the private car windows. And at that, without realizing it, Fox-face for that began hating him. Once across the tracks Blue Jeans clicked to Girl o' Mine. She swung to a canter. "Trip along, honey," he bade her, his serenity almost restored. "Trip along, and watch your step.
"He looked honest but it was a bad hunch, I'm afraid. I'm not so certain but what he would prove to be too honest, for any practical purpose, if he ever did come through." "You've seen the last of him," stated Fox-face omnisciently. But they hadn't. Blue Jeans was invisible for a while, then he reappeared, and the water from the tank overflow had done much for man and beast.
This from the reporter, ruminatingly. "I sent him on to Larrabie." "Bet you a hundred that Larrabie never sees him!" "I'll take that," said the reporter. But Fox-face, perceiving better ones, changed the terms of his proffered wager. "Bet you a hundred you never hear from him, even if he does meet Condit." He hurled this at the huge man, disdaining the reporter.
The level dislike in the other's tone disconcerted the huge man not at all. He was wise enough to drop it there. But it set him thinking as he retraced his way to the private car. The fox-faced man and the reporter who was monosyllabic were waiting for his return. "How much?" This from Fox-face, avidly. He had seen money change hands. "Two hundred. He was stony!" "He did look hungry."
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