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When A Man's A Man by Harold Bell Wright
page 71 of 339 (20%)

"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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