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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Trailin'!"

"
"What?"
"Is that a way to take it! I've asked you a favour, Steve."
He said suspiciously: "It's got something to do with the tenderfoot in
the room out there?"
It was a palpable hit, for she coloured sharply. Then she took the bull
by the horns.
"What if it is?"
"Sally, d'you mean to say you've fallen for that cheap line of lingo he
passes out?"
"Steve, don't try to kid me."
"Why, you know who he is, don't you?"
"Sure; Anthony Bard."
"And do you know who Anthony Bard is?"
"Well?" she asked with some anxiety.
"Well, if you don't know you can find out. That's what the last girl
done."
She wavered, and then blinked her eyes as if she were resolved to shut
out the truth.
"I asked you to do me a favour, Steve."
"And I will. You know that."
"I want you to see that Bard gets safe out of this town."
"Sure. Nothing I'd rather do."
She tilted her head a little to one side and regarded him wistfully.
"Are you double-crossin' me, Steve?"
"Why d'you suspect me? Haven't I said I'd do it?"
"But you said it too easy.


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