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Burroughs, Edgar Rice, 1875-1950

"The Mucker"

She had cared for him very
much--it was entirely possible that some day she might
have come to return his evident affection for her. She knew
nothing of the seamy side of his hard life. She had guessed
nothing of the scoundrelly duplicity that had marked his first
advances toward her. She thought of him only as a true,
brave gentleman, and in that she was right, for whatever
Henri Theriere might have been in the past the last few days
of his life had revealed him in the true colors that birth and
nature had intended him to wear through a brilliant career. In
his death he had atoned for many sins.
And in those last few days he had transferred, all unknown
to himself or the other man, a measure of the gentility and
chivalry that were his birthright, for, unrealizing, Billy Byrne
was patterning himself after the man he had hated and had
come to love.
After the girl's announcement the mucker had continued to
sit with bowed head staring at the ground. Afternoon had
deepened into evening, and now the brief twilight of the
tropics was upon them--in a few moments it would be dark.
Presently Byrne looked up. His eyes wandered about the
tiny clearing. Suddenly he staggered to his feet. Barbara Harding
sprang up, startled by the evident alarm in the man's
attitude.


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