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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"The Port of Missing Men"


He heard the house door close a moment later, and gazing across the
garden, saw the lights on the veranda flash out.
Then with a smile on his face he strode away to find Oscar and the
horses.


CHAPTER XVIII
AN EXCHANGE OF MESSAGES
When youth was lord of my unchallenged fate,
And time seemed but the vassal of my will,
I entertained certain guests of state--
The great of older days, who, faithful still,
Have kept with me the pact my youth had made.
--S. Weir Mitchell.

"Who am I?" asked John Armitage soberly.
He tossed the stick of a match into the fireplace, where a pine-knot
smoldered, drew his pipe into a glow and watched Oscar screw the top on a
box of ointment which he had applied to Armitage's arm. The little
soldier turned and stood sharply at attention.
"Yon are Mr. John Armitage, sir. A man's name is what he says it is. It
is the rule of the country."
"Thank you, Oscar. Your words reassure me. There have been times lately
when I have been in doubt myself. You are a pretty good doctor."
"First aid to the injured; I learned the trick from a hospital steward.


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