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The Ramrodders - A Novel by Holman (Holman Francis) Day
page 85 of 400 (21%)
The young man stared hard at him. It was an unwonted tone for Kavanagh
to employ. Clare's father, till now, had not included Harlan in his feud
with the grandfather. He had always treated him with a brusqueness that
had a sort of good-humor beneath it. His discourse with the young man
had been curt and satiric and infrequent, and consisted usually in mock
messages of defiance which he asked to have delivered by word of mouth
to the grandfather. But his tone now was crisp and it had a straight
business ring.

"My girl will be sixteen to-morrow. She is done with childhood to-day.
Children may ride cock-horse and play ring-around-a-rosy. I haven't
drawn any particular line on playfellows up to now. But there isn't
going to be any playing at love, sir."

"I never have played at love with your daughter!" cried Harlan, shocked
and indignant at this sudden attack.

"Well, I'm fixing it so you won't. We won't argue about what has
happened, nor we won't discuss what might happen. All is, I don't
propose to have any grandson of old Thornton mixed up in my family. I
don't like the breed. You take that word back to him. I hear he's been
making talk. He made some talk to-day. You needn't look at Clare, young
man. She didn't tell me. But it came across to me mighty sudden. Others
heard, too. What I ought to do is go over there and stripe his old
Yankee hide with a horsewhip. But you tell him for me that that would be
taking too much stock in anything that a politician in your
politics-ridden States could say. That's all. You've got it, blunt and
straight. And, by-the-way, I understand he's making a politician out of
you, too, to-day? I'm taking this thing just in time!"

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