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Rhodes, Eugene Manlove, 1869-1934

"The Desire of the Moth; and the Come On"


When they're eager to annex something dishonestly you get 'em every
time. Maybe you'll lose him. Why didn't you stay with him? He may not
go to the Cornucopia at all."
"Oh, yes, he will!" said Mitchell confidently. "I am going to play him
for all he's worth, and I want him to feel sure I'm O.K. It might make
him suspicious if I kept at his coat tails. Plenty of time. I won't
even look him up to-morrow. Rig the old joint as my office, and wait
there till he hunts me up. Let him make all the advances, d'ye see?
Teach him bridge, on the square, at night. Let him win a little--just
enough to keep him satisfied with himself--_you_'ll see. Wait till he
draws his wad, and we'll throw the gaff in him to the queen's taste.
If he won't nibble at one hook try another. But, I say, Billy,
you'll have to furnish the scads for bait, in case he don't? rise to
something easy. I know you're flush from that Manning job."
* * * * *
Meantime, with unspoiled and sparkling eye, the inlander saw, broad
sweeping before him, mist-bordered, dream-vast, dim-seen beneath the
lowering sky, the magic city whose pulsings send and call a nation's
life-blood.
The salt tang of the sea was in his nostrils; greetings, many-keyed,
hoarse-whistled by plying craft, were in his ears; creamy-foamed wakes
of turbulent keels, swift-sent or laboring, boiled their swirling
splendor against the black water.


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