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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

"
As I stared at him, half believing, half incredulous, I became
conscious that she stood in the hall doorway. Coombs lifted his head,
glad of any respite, and I glanced aside also, dropping the revolver
back into my coat pocket.
"You--you were quarreling?" she asked, coming into the room, "you were
so long I became anxious, and came down."
"Nothing serious," I assured her, smilingly. "Coombs here was a little
reluctant to impart information, and I was compelled to resort to
primitive methods. The result has been quite satisfactory."
"Kin I go now?" he asked uneasily.
"Yes, by way of the front door."
I watched his great hulking figure until he disappeared along the path
leading around the house. I had no fear that he would ever face me
openly; all I needed to guard against was treachery. Then I turned and
looked into the questioning eyes of the woman.
"What did you learn? What did he say?"
"Only one thing of real importance," I answered in subdued tone, "and I
dragged that out of him by threat. He was not employed by Neale, and
the fellow who was sent down here to assist us was disposed of in some
way."
"Killed, you mean?"
"I suspect as much, but Coombs claims he was kicked off the place, and
returned North.


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