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Raine, William MacLeod, 1871-1954

"Bucky O'Connor"

Honest, it's more comfort
than a wife."
"How do you know, since you are not married?" she asked archly.
"I been noticing some of my poor unfortunate friends," he
grinned.

CHAPTER 7. IN THE LAND OF REVOLUTIONS
The knock that sounded on the door was neither gentle nor
apologetic. It sounded as if somebody had flung a baseball bat at
it.
O'Connor smiled, remembering that soft tap of yore. "I reckon--"
he was beginning, when the door opened to admit a visitor.
This proved to be a huge, red-haired Irishman, with a face that
served just now merely as a setting for an irresistible smile.
The owner of the flaming head looked round in surprise on the
pair of Romanies and began an immediate apology to which a sudden
blush served as accompaniment.
"Beg pardon. I didn't know The damned dago told me " He stopped
in confusion, with a scrape and a bow to the lady.
"Sir, I demand an explanation of this most unwarrantable
intrusion," spoke the ranger haughtily, in his best Spanish.
A patter of soft foreign vowels flowed from the stranger's
embarrassment.
"You durned old hawss-stealing greaser, cayn't you talk English?"
drawled the gipsy, with a grin.


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