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Day, Holman (Holman Francis), 1865-1935

"The Ramrodders A Novel"

"Good-night!"
He waited by the side of the river until he saw her white figure safely
through the dark bridge, and on its way up the quiet hillside past the
church. Then he rode to "The Barracks," his mind dwelling a bit more
particularly on the vagaries of womankind than it ever had before.
He joined his grandfather on the porch after he had eaten his supper
alone.
"The fences, so I hear, Harlan, will pass the inspection of the most
expert fence-viewers," he chuckled. "So I suppose you'll be ready to
leave with me to-morrow."
"If you think it's necessary to have me go anywhere with you,
grandfather, I'll go."
There was silence for a time. The young man was waiting. The old man
smoked placidly.
"Is there any reason why you can't tell me where we are going?" inquired
Harlan.
"No especial reason--only I'll be wasting time telling you. You'll see
for yourself. We'll meet a big man or so--that's all!"
"The man I'd like to meet," began the young man, fervently, "is one that
every young chap in this country can follow and ought to follow, if he's
got red blood and honesty in him.


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