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The Maid-At-Arms by Robert W. (Robert William) Chambers
page 6 of 422 (01%)
We drew bridle at the cross-roads; he stretched his legs in his
stirrups, raised his arms, yawned, and dropped his huge hands upon
either thigh with a resounding slap.

"Well, good-bye," he said, gravely, but made no movement to leave me.

"Do we part here?" I asked, sorry to quit my chance acquaintance of the
Johnstown highway.

He nodded, yawned again, and removed his round cap of silver-fox fur to
scratch his curly head.

"We certainly do part at these cross-roads, if you are bound for
Varicks'," he said.

I waited a moment, then thanked him for the pleasant entertainment his
company had afforded me, and wished him a safe journey.

"A safe journey?" he repeated, carelessly. "Oh yes, of course; safe
journeys are rare enough in these parts. I'm obliged to you for the
thought. You are very civil, sir. Good-bye."

Yet neither he nor I gathered bridle to wheel our horses, but sat there
in mid-road, looking at each other.

"My name is Mount," he said at length; "let me guess yours. No, sir!
don't tell me. Give me three sportsman's guesses; my hunting-knife
against the wheat straw you are chewing!"

"With pleasure," I said, amused, "but you could scarcely guess it."
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