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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"

I guess I'll stay right here and wait until you are so
kind, so--er--very kind and obliging as to show me where I can find
Spike." And he sighed plaintively as he lounged against the wall behind,
but his eyes were surprisingly bright and quick beneath the shadow of
the battered hat.
"Hully Chee!" exclaimed the Spider, expectorating contemptuously, "hark
to the flossy-boy, fellers! Aw, run away, now!" said he, scowling
suddenly, "run away before ye get slapped on th' wrist!" and, while
divers of his companions laughed hoarsely, he turned a contemptuous back
on Mr. Ravenslee. But even then he was seized in iron fingers that
clutched his shoulder and, in that painful grip, was jerked suddenly
around again to behold a face vicious-eyed, thin-lipped, square-jawed,
fiercely outthrust. Recognising the "fighting-face", the Spider, being
a fighter of a large and varied experience, immediately "covered up",
and fell into that famous crouch of his that had proved the undoing of
so many doughty fighters ere now. Then, like a flash, his long arm shot
out, but in that same instant, Ravenslee, timing the blow to a fraction,
moved slightly, and the Spider's knuckles bruised themselves against the
wall at the precise moment that Ravenslee's open hand flipped lightly on
the side of the Spider's square, lean jaw.


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