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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"West Wind Drift"

To a certain degree, he understood
the situation. It was out of pure consideration for his friend's
feelings that he said:
"I'll go and head 'em off, A. A."
"Thanks, old chap,--but there's no sense in getting yourself disliked.
I'll do it. I'm in bad already,--and besides I'm the one who gave
the order."
Near the end of the row of huts, he drew alongside of Ruth Clinton
and Landover.
"The order was meant for every one, Miss Clinton," he said levelly.
"Am I to understand that you have decided to ignore it?"
She stopped short and drew herself up haughtily. Their eyes met.
There was defiance in hers. She did not speak. Landover confronted
Percival, white with fury.
"I am capable of looking after Miss Clinton," he exclaimed. "Your
beastly officiousness--"
"You will go back to your cabin at once, Miss Clinton," said
Percival, ignoring Landover.
She did not move.
"Miss Clinton came out here at my suggestion," said Landover. "If
you have any more bullying to do, confine yourself to me, Percival."
"I am not doing this because I enjoy it, Miss Clinton," went on the
young man, still looking into her unwavering eyes. "I am sorry it
is necessary to remind you that there are no privileged classes
here.


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