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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"

I
know as you can't forgive me. I know as you'll cut me out for good after
this. But I want ye t' know as I'm sorry, Geoff--awful sorry--I--I ain't
fit t' be anybody's friend, I guess."
"I think you need a friend more than ever, Spike!"
"Geoff!" cried the boy breathlessly. "Say--what d' you mean?"
"I mean the time has come for you to choose between M'Ginnis and me. If
I am to be your friend, M'Ginnis must be your enemy from now on--wait!
If you want my friendship, no more secrets; tell me just how M'Ginnis
got you into his power--how he got you to break into my house."
Spike glanced up through his tears, glanced down, choked upon a sob, and
burst into breathless narrative.
"There was me an' Bud an' a guy they call Heine--we'd been to a rube
boxin' match up th' river. An' as we come along, Heine says: 'If I was
in th' second-story-lay there's millionaire Ravenslee's wigwam waitin'
t' be cracked,' an' he pointed out your swell place among th' trees in
th' moonlight. Then Bud says: 'You ain't got th' nerve, Heine.


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