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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Rose in the Ring"

It came as from a great distance and slowly,
but it came to take its frightened, subdued stand beside its kin.
"I guess I'll be going," he said, and even as he uttered the words he
wondered why he did so. "Ten thousand's a lot of money, but if Dick
thinks it's too dirty for us to touch, why, I'm with him. You can
count me out." He put on his hat and started toward the door.
Dick could hardly believe his ears. "Great Scott, Ernie, you--you--
Well, you're just great, kid!"
"Just a minute," said Grand, arising slowly, an ominous glitter in his
eyes. He towered above the hunchback, who was near the door. "I don't
intend to let you go until you've heard _all_ I have to say."
"Get out of the way, Grand," said the pickpocket, his fingers clenched
so tightly that the backs of his hands were white.
"There's only one way to handle swine of your breed," sneered Grand;
"and that is with a club. You are a fine, virtuous pair, you are. I've
got a job for you to do to-night, and I have the means of compelling
you to do it. You must not get it into your heads that I did not
prepare myself for either view you might take of the matter.


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