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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"My Lady Caprice"

You see, my outlaw got tired of being
an outlaw, so he asked me to get him some 'togs,' meaning clothes,
you know, so I went an' looked in the stable an' found these."
"You don't mean to say that you stole them, Imp?"
"'Course not!" he answered reproachfully. "I left Peter sixpence
an' a note to say I would pay him for them when I got my pocket-money,
so help me, Sam!"
"Ah, to be sure!" I nodded. We were close to the old boat-house now,
and upon the Imp's earnest solicitations I handed over my bundles and
hid behind a tree, because, as he pointed out, "his outlaw might
not like me to see him just at first."
Having opened each package with great care and laid out their
contents upon a log near by, the Imp approached the ruined building
with signs of the most elaborate caution, and gave three loud, double
knocks. Now casting my eyes about, I espied a short, heavy stick,
and picking it up, poised it in my hand ready in the event of
possible contingencies.
The situation was decidedly unpleasant, I confess, for I expected
nothing less then to be engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle
within the next few minutes; therefore, I waited in some suspense,
straining my eyes to wards the shadows with my fingers clasped tight
upon my bludgeon.


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