When A Man's A Man by Harold Bell Wright
page 71 of 339 (20%)
page 71 of 339 (20%)
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"Yes, I know, but you see--oh, hang it all, Mr. Acton, haven't you ever wanted to do something that you didn't want to do? Haven't you ever been caught in a corner that you were simply forced to get out of when you didn't like the only way that would get you out? I don't mean anything criminal," he added, with a short laugh. "Yes, I have," returned the other seriously, "and if you don't mind there's no handle to my name. Around here I'm just plain Phil, Mr. Patches." "Thanks. Neither does Patches need decorating." "And now, one more," said Phil, with his winning smile. "Why in the name of all the obstinate fools that roam at large did you walk out here when you must have had plenty of chances to ride?" "Well, you see," said Patches slowly, "I fear I can't explain, but it was just a part of my job." "Your job! But you didn't have any job until this afternoon." "Oh, yes, I did. I had the biggest kind of a job. You see, that's what I was doing on the Divide all night; trying to find some other way to do it." "And do you mind telling me what that job is?" asked Phil curiously. Patches laughed as though at himself. "I don't know that I can, exactly," he said. "I think, perhaps, it's just to ride that big bay |
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