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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Love under Fire"

"
Major Hardy glanced toward his daughter inquiringly, but before she
could utter a word in explanation I cut in:
"This has nothing to do with Miss Hardy. She is as much a prisoner as
you are. Now, Captain, hand me your revolver--butt first, please. Major
Hardy, I will also trouble you. Now both of you back up slowly against
the wall."
Their faces were a study, Hardy rather seeming to enjoy the experience,
his thin lips smiling grimly, but Le Gaire was mad, his jaw set, his
eyes glaring at me.
"I should rather like to know what all this means, young man," said the
former. "Do you expect to capture the house single-handed?"
"Hardly, but I've made a good start," now fully at ease, with a revolver
in each hand, the third thrust in my belt. "However I've no time now
to explain."
Without turning my face from them I sidled over to the window, speaking
quietly into the darkness without:
"Come in, men, one at a time."
Almost to my surprise they came over the rail like so many monkeys,
scarcely a sound revealing the movements. I saw the smile fade from off
the major's lips, and my eyes caught Billie's wide open in astonishment.
The fellows hustled in behind me, not knowing what was expected of them,
but ready enough for anything.


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