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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"


"Humph; you mean the peroxid blonde! She ain't no _lady_. Well, it
wa'n't her, that's a cinch; she was down yere to breakfast, a laughin'
an' gigglin' with them two men 'bout an hour ago. They seemed ter feel
mighty good over something but I couldn't quite make out just what the
joke was. Say, did yer ever hear tell of a Mexican named Mendez?"
"Well, rather; he's a cattle thief, or worse. Arizona has a big reward
out for him, dead or alive."
"That's the gink, I bet yer; has he got a hang-out anywhar 'round this
country?"
"Not so far as I know; in fact, I haven't heard the fellow's name
mentioned for six months, or more. What makes you suspect this?"
Sadie leaned even closer, her voice trembling with excitement,
evidently convinced that her information was of the utmost importance.
"For God's sake, Mr. Westcott," she whispered, "don't never tell
anybody I told yer, but she was awful good ter me, an' that pasty-faced
blonde makes me sick just ter look at her. You know the feller they
call Enright, I reckon he's a lawyer.


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