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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

However, before I go it may be of
some interest for me to say that I have played my last game."
Somebody laughed sarcastically, a harsh, hateful laugh. The speaker
whirled, took one step forward; there was the flash of an extended arm,
a dull crunch, and Red Slavin went crashing backward against the wall.
As he gazed up, dazed and bewildered, from the floor, the lights
glimmered along a blue-steel barrel.
"Not a move, you red brute," and Hampton spurned him contemptuously
with his heel. "This is no variety show, and your laughter was in poor
taste. However, if you feel particularly hilarious to-night I 'll give
you another chance. I said this was my last game; I'll repeat
it--_this was my last game_! Now, damn you! if you feel like it,
laugh!"
He swept the circle of excited faces, his eyes glowing like two
diamonds, his thin lips compressed into a single straight line.
"Mr. Slavin appears to have lost his previous sense of humor," he
remarked, calmly. "I will now make my statement for the third
time--_this was my last game_. Perhaps some of you gentlemen also may
discover this to be amusing.


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