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Bindloss, Harold, 1866-1945

"Winston of the Prairie"


Winston could see that at a glance, although the room was dim.
"I don't seem to know you, but I'll get a light in a minute," he said.
"I wouldn't waste time," said the other. "We can talk just as straight
in the dark, and I guess this meeting will finish up outside on the
prairie. You've given me a good deal of trouble to trail you, Mr.
Guyler."
"Well," said Winston dryly, "it seems to me that you have found the
wrong man."
The stranger laughed unpleasantly. "I was figuring you'd take it like
that, but you can't bluff me. Well now, I've come round to take it out
of you for slinging that decanter at me, and if there is another thing
we needn't mention it."
Winston stared at the man, and his astonishment was evident, but the
fact that he still spoke with an English accentuation, as Courthorne
did, was against him.
"To the best of my recollection, I have never suffered the
unpleasantness of meeting you in my life," he said. "I certainly never
threw a decanter or anything else at you, though I understand that one
might feel tempted to."
The man rose up slowly, and appeared big and heavy-shouldered as he
moved athwart the window. "I guess that is quite enough for me," he
said. "What were you condemned Englishmen made for, any way, but to
take the best of what other men worked for, until the folks who've got
grit enough run you out of the old country! Lord, why don't they drown
you instead of dumping you and your wickedness on to us? Still, I'm
going to show one of you, as I've longed to do, that you can't play
your old tricks with the women of this country.


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