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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"

Suddenly
something moved to her right, and she shrank back against the tree,
uncertain if the shapeless thing approaching was man or beast. He was
almost upon her before she was sure; then her lips gave utterance to a
little sob of relief.
"Oh! You frightened me so!"
The man stopped, scarcely a yard away, a burly figure, but with face
indistinguishable.
"Sorry to do that," he said, "but no noise, please."
She shrank back to the edge of the bank, conscious of the grip of a
great fear.
"You--you are not Mr. Westcott?" she choked. "Who are you? What is it
you want?"
The man laughed, but made no move.
"Hard luck to come out here to meet Jim, an' run up against a totally
different proposition--hey, miss?" he said grimly. "However, this
ain't goin' ter be no love affair--not yit, at least. If I wuz you I
wouldn't try makin' no run fer it; an' if yer let out a screech, I'll
hav' ter be a bit rough."
"You--you are after me?"
"Sure; you've been playin' in a game what's none o' your business. Now
I reckon it's the other party's turn to throw some cards.


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