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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

Brant looked the
picture of a soldier on duty, trim, well built, erect, his resolute
blue eyes never flinching from the steady gaze bent upon ham, his
bronzed young face grave from the seriousness of his mission. Neither
was a man to temporize, to mince words, or to withhold blows; yet each
instinctively felt that this was an occasion rather for self-restraint.
In both minds the same thought lingered--the vague wonder how much the
other knew. The elder man, however, retained the better self-control,
and was first to break the silence.
"Miss Gillis informed me of your kindness to her last evening," he
said, quietly, "and in her behalf I sincerely thank you. Permit me to
offer you a chair."
Brant accepted it, and sat down, feeling the calm tone of
proprietorship in the words of the other as if they had been a blow.
His face flushed, yet he spoke firmly. "Possibly I misconstrue your
meaning," he said, with some bluntness, determined to reach the gist of
the matter at once. "Did Miss Gillis authorize you to thank me for
these courtesies?"
Hampton smiled with provoking calmness, holding an unlighted cigar
between his fingers.


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