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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"The Ne'er-Do-Well"


They noted how ill he appeared, as if he had suffered from a
jungle fever, how his well-cut evening clothes refused to conceal
the frail lines of his figure, and how the hollows in his cheeks
added to his age. But for the first time since they had known him
they saw that his eyes were alive and burning dully.
"I really didn't expect this," he began, slowly, as he rose.
"Anthony exaggerates; he is too kind. But since he has chosen to
publicly call attention to our relations, I will confess that what
he tells you is all true. He was everything he says when he first
came to Panama. He did get into trouble, and I helped him out; he
had no money, and I put him up as my guest; he needed work, and I
helped to place him. Through my assistance--partly, at any rate--
he has made a man of himself. He has been welcome at my house, at
my table; he has come and gone as he pleased, like one of the
family, you might say. But those are little things; they count for
nothing." He smiled in a way that seemed ironical, his lips
writhed away from his teeth until his visage resembled a death-
head. His tone had gripped his hearers, and Anthony stirred
uneasily, thinking this an odd way of accepting a gift.
Unclasping his long, white fingers, Cortlandt held up the watch to
public view.


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