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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

"
"Oh, go to hell!"
"We will consider that proposition somewhat later." Hampton laid his
hat with calm deliberation on the table. "No doubt, Mr. Slavin,--if
you move that hand again I 'll fill your system with lead,--you
experience some very natural curiosity regarding the object of my
unanticipated, yet I hope no less welcome, visit."
Slavin's only reply was a curse, his bloodshot eyes roaming the room
furtively.
"I suspected as much," Hampton went on, coolly. "Indeed, I should have
felt hurt had you been indifferent upon such an occasion. It does
credit to your heart, Slavin. Come now, keep your eyes on me! I was
about to gratify your curiosity, and, in the first place, I came to
inquire solicitously regarding the state of your health during my
absence, and incidentally to ask why you are exhibiting so great an
interest in Miss Naida Gillis."
Slavin straightened up, his great hands clinching nervously, drops of
perspiration appearing on his red forehead. "I don't understand your
damned fun."
Hampton's lips smiled unpleasantly. "Slavin, you greatly discourage
me. The last time I was here you exhibited so fine a sense of humor
that I was really quite proud of you.


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