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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"The Port of Missing Men"

There's the sack on the floor, and any of its dirt that isn't on
my face must be permanently settled in my lungs."
"What are you doing up here in the mountains--why are you not at your
station? The potato-sack story is pretty flimsy. Do better than that and
hurry up!"
"Armitage"--as he spoke, Claiborne walked to the table and rested his
finger-tips on it--"Armitage, you and I have made some mistakes during
our short acquaintance. I will tell you frankly that I have blown hot and
cold about you as I never did before with another man in my life. On the
ship coming over and when I met you in Washington I thought well of you.
Then your damned cigarette case shook my confidence in you there at the
Army and Navy Club that night; and now--"
"Damn my cigarette case!" bellowed Armitage, clapping his hand to his
pocket to make sure of it.
"That's what I say! But it was a disagreeable situation,--you must admit
that."
"It was, indeed!"
"It requires some nerve for a man to tell a circumstantial story like
that to a tableful of gentlemen, about one of the gentlemen!"
"No doubt of it whatever, Mr.


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