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Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

"Bunch Grass A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch"


"Yas, my soul," continued Uncle Jap, meditatively. "I risked
everything I'd got. Man," he leant across the gaily decorated table,
with its crystal, its pink shades, its pretty flowers, and compelled
his host to meet his flaming eyes,--"man, I risked my wife's love and
respect. And," he drew a deep breath, "by God, I was justified. I got
there. If I hadn't," the fire died down in his mild blue eyes, and the
thin body seemed to wither and shrink,--"if I hadn't struck it, it
would hev killed her, the finest lady in the land, an' me too. It was
nip an' tuck with both of us. And now," his voice warmed into life
again,--"and now you offer me fifty thousand dollars."
"I am anxious to treat you right, Mr. Panel. Another glass of brandy?
No. Between ourselves the market is getting weaker every day. Fifty
thousand profit, perhaps, may seem a small sum to you, but I cannot
offer more. You are at perfect liberty to refuse my cheque; others,
perhaps----"
Uncle Jap rose up grim and gaunt.
"I've ate dinner with you," he murmured, "so I'll say nothing more
than 'thank you' and 'good-bye.'"
"Good-bye, Mr.


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