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Raine, William MacLeod, 1871-1954

"Bucky O'Connor"


"And a pleasure?"
"Of course. But I'm sorry that father has been called to Phoenix.
I suppose you came to tell him about your success."
"To brag about it," he corrected. "But not to your father--to his
daughter."
"That's very thoughtful of you. Will you begin now?"
"Not yet. There is something I have to tell you, Miss Mackenzie."
At the gravity in his voice the lightness slipped from her like a
cloak.
"Yes. Tell me your news. Over the telephone all sorts of rumors
have come to us. But even these were hearsay."
"I thought of telephoning you the facts. Then I decided to ride
out and tell you at once. I knew you would want to hear the story
at first hand."
Her patrician manner was gone. Her eyes looked their thanks at
him. "That was good of you. I have been very anxious to get the
facts.
One rumor was that you have captured Sir. Leroy. Is it true?"
It seemed to her that his look was one of grave tenderness. "No,
that is not true. You remember what we said of him--of how he
might die?"
"He is dead--you killed him," she cried, all the color washed
from her face.
"He is dead, but I did not kill him.


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