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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"The Port of Missing Men"

Is it a
bargain--or--must I still hang your head down the well till I get
through?"
"Marhof may go to the devil! He's a lot more mysterious than even you,
Armitage. These fellows that brought me up here to kill me in the belief
that I was you can not be friends of Marhof's cause."
"They are not; I assure you they are not! They are blackguards of the
blackest dye."
"I believe you, Armitage."
"Thank you. Now your horse is at the door--run along like a good fellow."
Armitage dived into his room, caught up a cartridge belt and reappeared
buckling it on.
"Oscar!" he yelled, "bring in that coffee--with cups for two."
He kicked off his boots and drew on light shoes and leggings.
"Light marching orders for the rough places. Confound that buckle."
He rose and stamped his feet to settle the shoes.
"Your horse is at the door; that rascal Oscar will take off the blanket
for you. There's a bottle of fair whisky in the cupboard, if you'd like a
nip before starting. Bless me! I forgot the coffee! There on the table,
Oscar, and never mind the chairs," he added as Oscar came in with a tin
pot and the cups on a piece of plank.


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