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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"


"Me? Not so's you could notice it. I ain't huntin' that sort o' trouble."
"Oh, well, if you think you'd--er--better not, I'll go alone."
"What, yer goin', are ye?"
"Of course! You see, Spike is my friend; consequently his trouble
is my trouble. Good night, Spider, and whatever else you do, be sure
to--er--take good care of yourself!" And Ravenslee smiled and turned
away; but he had not gone six paces before the Spider was at his elbow.
"Say, bo," said he, "I don't like the way you smile, but you talk so
soft an' pretty, I guess I'll jest have t' come along t' gather up what
they leave of ye."
"Spider," said Ravenslee, "shake!" The Spider obeyed, somewhat
shamefacedly to be sure.
"It looks like two domes bein' cracked 'stead o' one, an' all along o'
that fool-kid!" Having said which, he lurched on beside Ravenslee,
chewing voraciously.
"How you goin' t' work it?" he enquired suddenly.
"I don't know yet."
"Hully Chee! You've sure gotcher nerve along. There's some o' the
toughest guys in little Manhattan Village at O'Rourke's dump t'night,
keepin' th' ring an' fair achin' for trouble.


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