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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"

"
"No!" cried Spike. "Oh, my God--no!"
"What's she meetin' this millionaire in a wood for--on the sly?"
"She don't! Hermy ain't like that."
"I tell ye she does!" cried M'Ginnis, "an' him kissin' an' squeezin' her
an'--nobody by--"
"It's a lie, Bud--she--she wouldn't!"
"S'posin' I could show ye? S'pose you see him there--waitin' for her--"
"If--if he means any harm t' Hermy, I--I'll kill him!"
"Aw--you wouldn't have the nerve, Kid!"
"I'd shoot him dead--by God, I would!"
"You ain't man enough, Kid."
"You g-give me a gun an' see. I'd shoot any one t' save my sister
from--th' river. Oh, my God--I--I'd die for her, an' she don't love me
no more!" And leaning his head upon his arms, Spike burst into a passion
of tears. M'Ginnis watched him awhile, then, filling the boy's glass,
clapped him on the shoulder and held it to his lips.
"Neck this, Kid," said he, "neck it all--so, that's good, ain't it?
To-morrow evenin' I'll take ye where they meet; maybe you'll ketch him
waitin' for her--but instead of Hermy an' kisses there'll be you an' me,
hey? Will ye come?"
"S-sure I will if--you'll gimme--your gun.


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