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More than likely it was rather a thieves' hang-out, ever suspicious of the activity of the police. Yet this fellow bore no outward semblance to the common conception of the under-world. Nor did his actions or words exhibit any motive other than ordinary good-fellowship.
In fact, he had made Tom assume the Langley name, and in every way had treated the brother and sister as if they had been his own children. Tom met us with a smart trap at the station, a sufficient indication, if we had not already known, of the "roughing it" at such a luxurious Adirondack "camp" as Camp Hang-out.
Now you realize the disadvantage of living way off where you do. My hang-out is just down the street. Let's have a drink." We accepted both his invitations. Then, after the supper, pipes alight, we sauntered down the street, a vast leisure expanding our horizons. At the street corner stood a tall, poetic-looking man, with dreamer's eyes, a violin clasped under his chin.
And, while we eat, I am going to tell you something." "About Galloway?" she asked quickly. "Explaining what you meant by Galloway's hang-out?" "Yes. And more than that." For a little she stood, looking at him very gravely. Then she spoke in utter frankness. "Mr. Norton, I think that I can see your position; you were so circumstanced through Mr. Lane's being hurt that you had to bring either Dr.
The hang-out, as Sam calls it, isn't large, but there's always room somehow." Milly demurred at first, but later when Marion Reddon was obliged to depart hurriedly for the south because one of the children was threatened with tuberculosis, she gratefully accepted the offer of the Reddons' apartment during their absence.
"The hang-out of our convict citizens from Australia, those eastern toughs and plug-uglies of the Seventh regiment who came here to feather their nests. Do you know what they've done? Formed a society called The Hounds. Appropriate, isn't it? Your friend McTurpin's one of them. Thanks to you, they've lost a valued member." "Hounds?" said Adrian. His thought still forged ahead.
He read a line or two, frowning mildly. "My soul! I believe it's a novel! She must think I'm a critic to want me to read it." Smiling at the idea, he closed the ledger. "I'll take it upstairs to my hang-out after dinner, and see if Laura's literary manner has my august approval. Who in the world would ever have thought she'd decide to set up for a writer?"
The three tramps were evidently enjoying an excellent breakfast. "This place is a regular hang-out for these fellows," Mifflin whispered. "I've seen hoboes about here every year. They go into winter quarters about the end of October, usually.
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