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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"

The name itself was familiar
enough, for it was one often spoken along the border in connection with
crime, but beyond this meant nothing to him. The fellow had always
appeared a rather mythical character, but now became suddenly real.
The marshal might know; if not, then he must choke the truth out of
Lacy. Determined to make the effort, he muttered a swift word of
thanks to Sadie and left the room.
Enright was not in the office, but had evidently merely passed through
and gone out. Timmons was sound asleep in a chair by the window,
oblivious to any ordinary noise. From the open doorway Westcott took
careful survey Of the street, adjusting his belt so that the butt of
his revolver was more convenient to the hand. He had no conception
that his coming interview with Lacy was to be altogether a pleasant
one, and realised fully the danger confronting him.
Very few of the citizens of Haskell were abroad, although a small group
were ornamenting the platform in front of Healey's saloon opposite. At
that moment the little marshal, his broad-brimmed hat cocked over one
eye, emerged from the narrow alleyway between the Red Dog and the
adjacent dance-hall, and stood there doubtfully, his gaze wandering up
and down the deserted street.


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