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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"

So gimme ye gun, Bud. That's it! Now we can sit an' talk real
sociable, can't we? Now listen, Bud--what you want is t' get your own
back on this guy Geoff, an' what th' Kid wants is t' show his sister as
he ain't a kid, an' what I want is t' give ye both a helpin' hand--"
But while M'Ginnis stood scowling at the imperturbable speaker, Spike
rose, a little unsteadily, and turned to the door.
"I'll be gettin' on me way, Bud," said he.
"Where to?"
"Home."
"What! Back t' Hermy? After she turned ye out?"
"But I--I got t' go somewheres--"
"Well, you stay right here with me, Kid; I'll fix ye up all right--"
"'S right, Kid!" nodded Soapy. "Bud'll fix ye all right, same as I
said; we'll have in another bottle when that's empty!"
"What about your sister, Kid?" demanded M'Ginnis fiercely. "What about
Hermy an' this swell guy? Are y' goin' t' sit around an' do nothin'?"
"But Geoff's goin' t' marry her."
"Marry her! What, him? A millionaire marry your sister? You think so,
an' she thinks so, but I know different!"
"But Hermy ain't that sort.


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