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Woodrow, Nancy Mann Waddel, 1870-1935

"The Black Pearl"

"
"I guess you're right," agreed Flick. "I guess we're too old and stiff
and tired to draw our guns unless there's a chance for us, anyway."
Flick rose with his usual languor. "Well, so long Mr.---- your name sure
does escape me." He strolled back to his companions, resuming his seat
in his usual unhurried and indifferent way. The curtains had not yet
parted, so he took occasion to relate to Gallito and Seagreave the
result of his conversation with Hanson, careless of the fact that the
latter sat watching them, gloating with malicious amusement over the
spectacle of the three of them so hopelessly entangled in the net and
yet engaging in the futile discussion of methods of escape.
As Bob Flick whispered the scheme to the two men the gloom deepened on
Gallito's face. It seemed to him too comprehensive and efficacious to
evade. But Harry did not share his depression. As he listened his face
changed and set. In his eyes was a flash like sunlight on steel. He was
the old Seagreave again whom Jose had once described to Gallito. The
Seagreave whose mind worked with lightning rapidity, who ventured
anything, as gay and invincible he fought in the last ditch, his back to
the wall and all the odds against him.
"I've got an idea," he said. "It may not work, but it's a chance." He
bent forward and in a rapid whisper outlined his plan for them. "I
wonder," he said, "if they'd nab me if I started to go over and talk to
Hughie? Do you suppose they would permit me a word with him?"
Flick laughed.


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