Good Books

Oh, I never
took nothin' from nobody--lemme go! Be a sport and let me beat it,
please, sir!"
All Mr. Ravenslee's chronic languor seemed to have returned as, leaning
back in the deep-cushioned chair, he regarded this youthful malefactor
with sleepy eyes, yet eyes that missed nothing of the boy's quivering
earnestness as he continued, breathlessly:
"Oh, I ain't a real crook, I never done nothin' like this before, an'
I never will again if--if you'll only let me chase meself--"
"And now," sighed Mr. Ravenslee, "I'll trouble you for the 'phone,
yonder."
"Are ye goin' to--call in de cops?"
"That is my intention. Give me the 'phone."
"No!" cried the boy, and springing before the telephone he stood there,
trembling but defiant.
"Give me that telephone!"
"Not much I won't!"
"Then of course I must shoot you!"
The boy stood with head up-flung and fists tight-clenched; Mr. Ravenslee
lounged in his chair with levelled pistol. So they fronted each
other--but, all at once, with a sound between a choke and a groan, the
lad covered his face.


Pages:
23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47