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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"Ruggles of Red Gap"

Quite like an anarchist he was. Presently he quieted. After a
long pull at his pipe he regarded me with an entire change of manner.
Well I knew something was coming; coming swift as a rocketing
woodcock. Word for word I put down our incredible speeches:
"You are going out to America, Ruggles."
"Yes, sir; North or South, sir?"
"North, I fancy; somewhere on the West coast--Ohio, Omaha, one of those
Indian places."
"Perhaps Indiana or the Yellowstone Valley, sir."
"The chap's a sort of millionaire."
"The chap, sir?"
"Eyebrow chap. Money no end--mines, lumber, domestic animals, that
sort of thing."
"Beg pardon, sir! I'm to go----"
"Chap's wife taken a great fancy to you. Would have you to do for the
funny, sad beggar. So he's won you. Won you in a game of drawing
poker. Another man would have done as well, but the creature was keen
for you. Great strength of character. Determined sort. Hope you won't
think I didn't play soundly, but it's not a forthright game. Think
they're bluffing when they aren't. When they are you mayn't think it.
So far as hiding one's intentions, it's a most rottenly immoral game.
Low, animal cunning--that sort of thing."
"Do I understand I was the stake, sir?" I controlled myself to say.
The heavens seemed bursting about my head.


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