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Fitzhugh, Percy Keese, 1876-1950

"Roy Blakely, Pathfinder"

And there wasn't any sound except the fire
crackling.
He said, "Who are you? What do you want here?"
"Just a stranger after food and shelter," I heard; "I've been wandering in
the woods. I am a discharged soldier and I'm in hard luck."
But I didn't notice him, because I was looking at Brent Gaylong. He was
standing up straight and looking steady, right across the fire, into that
face. And he didn't take his eyes off it; just stared.

CHAPTER XXXIII
WE PART COMPANY
Oh, it was great to watch Harry--the way he acted. He just said, "A
soldier, eh? Sit down, we were just going to have a bite to eat. I was in
the big scrap, myself." That's what he always called it--the big scrap. He
didn't pay any attention to Brent Gaylong, and Brent just stood there
staring.
Pretty soon Brent said, "Your name isn't Chandler, is it?"
"Maybe, and maybe not," Jib Jab said. "Who are you?"
He didn't admit he was Chandler right away and Harry Donnelle said, kind of
careless sort of, "If you're the missing Chandler you might as well so say.
We're all tramps and wanderers here. All broke, too."
So pretty Soon _Jib Jab, is he human?_ admitted that he was Horace E.


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