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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

Ay, and he would fight to win her; never confessing defeat
until final decision came from her own lips. He paused, half inclined
to retrace his steps and have the matter out. He turned just in time
to face a dazzling vision of fluffy lace and flossy hair beside him in
the dimly lighted hall.
"Oh, Lieutenant Brant!" and the vision clung to his arm tenderly. "It
is such a relief to find that you are unhurt. Did--did you kill him?"
Brant stared. "I--I fear I scarcely comprehend, Miss Spencer. I have
certainly taken no one's life. What can you mean?"
"Oh, I am so glad; and Naida will be, too. I must go right back and
tell the poor girl, for she is nearly distracted. Oh, Lieutenant, is
n't it the most romantic situation that ever was? And he is such a
mysterious character!"
"To whom do you refer? Really, I am quite in the dark."
"Why, Mr. Hampton, of course. Oh, I know all about it. Naida felt so
badly over your meeting this morning that I just compelled her to
confide her whole story to me. And didn't you fight at all?"
"Most assuredly not," and Brant's eyes began to exhibit amusement;
"indeed, we parted quite friendly.


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