Bucky O'Connor by William MacLeod Raine
page 26 of 336 (07%)
page 26 of 336 (07%)
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"I am sorry you lost so much, Miss Wainwright," he told her.
"But, after all, I did not lose so much as you. Her dark, deep-pupiled eyes, long-lashed as Diana's, swept round to meet his coolly. "That's a true word. My reputation has gone glimmering for fair, I guess." He laughed ruefully. "I shouldn't wonder, ma'am, when election time comes round, if the boys ain't likely to elect to private life the sheriff that lay down before a bunch of miscreants." "Why did you do it?" His humorous glance roamed round the car. "Now, I couldn't think it proper for me to shoot up this sumptuous palace on wheels. And wouldn't some casual passenger be likely to get his lights put out when the band began to play? Would you want that Boston church to be shy a preacher, ma'am?" Her lips parted slightly in a curve of scorn. "I suppose you had your reasons for not interfering." "Surely, ma'am. I hated to have them make a sieve of me." "Were you afraid?" "Most men are when Wolf Leroy's gang is on the war path." "Wolf Leroy?" |
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