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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

" She glanced around
smilingly upon her perspiring cavaliers. "Oh, put those things down,
gentlemen--anywhere there on the grass; they can be carried in later.
It was so kind of you both."
"Hey, there!" sang out the driver, growing impatient, "if you two gents
are aimin' to go down town with this outfit, you'd better be pilin' in
lively, fer I can't stay here all day."
Moffat glanced furtively aside at McNeil, only to discover that
individual quietly seated on the trunk. He promptly dropped his own
grip.
"Drive on with your butcher's cart," he called out spitefully. "I
reckon it's no special honor to ride to town."
The pleasantly smiling young woman glanced from one to the other, her
eyes fairly dancing, as the lumbering coach disappeared through the red
dust.
"How very nice of you to remain," she exclaimed. "Aunt Lydia, I am so
anxious for you to meet my friends, Mr. Moffat and Mr. McNeil. They
have been so thoughtful and entertaining all the way up the Bear Water,
and they explained so many things that I did not understand."
She swept impulsively down toward them, both hands extended, the bright
glances of her eyes bestowed impartially.


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