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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

Jed had swarmed over the bench
and once more pinned him fast.
"You'll have to excuse me, Major," he panted. "I--I can't help it.
This feller's got what ailed the parrot--he talks too darn much.
He's got to stop! He's GOT to!"
But Grover was paying little attention. He was looking at Ruth.
"Mrs. Armstrong," he asked, "has he been saying--saying things he
should not say about you? Is that the trouble?"
She answered without returning his look.
"Yes," she said, almost in a whisper. "About me and--and my--
Yes, that was it."
The Major's eyes flashed. "Let go of him, Jed," he commanded. Jed
hesitated.
"If I do he'll blow up again," he said.
"Let go of him."
Jed let go. Phineas caught his breath and opened his mouth. Major
Grover stepped in front of him and leveled a forefinger straight at
the crimson Babbitt nose.
"Stop!" he ordered, sharply.
"Stop? What right have you got to tell me to stop? By--"
"Stop! Listen to me. I don't know what you've been saying about
this lady--"
"I ain't been saying anything, except what I know, and that is
that--"
"Stop! And I don't care. But I know about you, sir, because it is
my business to know. The Government has had its eye on you for
some time and it has asked me to look into your record. I have
looked into it. You are not a very dangerous person, Mr.


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