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The Luck of Roaring Camp and Other Tales by Bret Harte
page 45 of 522 (08%)

The Judge recovered himself first and essayed an extravagant
compliment.

"I'll trouble you for that ha'rpin," said Miggles gravely. Half a
dozen hands were eagerly stretched forward; the missing hairpin was
restored to its fair owner; and Miggles, crossing the room, looked
keenly in the face of the invalid. The solemn eyes looked back at hers
with an expression we had never seen before. Life and intelligence
seemed to struggle back into the rugged face. Miggles laughed again,--
it was a singularly eloquent laugh,--and turned her black eyes and
white teeth once more towards us.

"This afflicted person is"--hesitated the Judge.

"Jim!" said Miggles.

"Your father?"

"No!"

"Brother?"

"No?"

"Husband?"

Miggles darted a quick, half-defiant glance at the two lady
passengers, who I had noticed did not participate in the general
masculine admiration of Miggles, and said gravely, "No; it's Jim!"
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