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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Black Jack"

She could feel his eyes prying at her
as though he were trying to get at her more accurately. "What's Hollis
been up to now?"
He turned and explained carelessly to his companion: "That's the young
scapegrace I told you about, Waters. Been raising Cain again, I suppose."
He faced the girl again.
"A good deal of it," she answered. "Yes, he's been making quite a bit of
trouble."
"I'm sorry for that, really," said Vance. "But we are not responsible for
him."
"I suppose you ain't," said Kate Pollard slowly. "But I'd like to talk to
the lady of the house."
"Very sorry," and again he looked in his sharp way--like a fox, she
thought--and then glanced away as though there were no interest in her or
her topic. "Very sorry, but my sister is in--er--critically declining
health. I'm afraid she cannot see you."
This repulse made Kate thoughtful. She was not used to such bluff talk
from men, however smooth or rough the exterior might be. And under the
quiet of Vance she sensed an opposition like a stone wall.
"I guess you ain't a friend of Terry's?"
"I'd hardly like to put it strongly one way or the other.


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