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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Peregrine's Progress"

"Tush, young sir!" said he. "Will
you allow the face of a peeping rogue to alienate your mind from a
conversation that promises to become interesting?"
"But sir," said I, rising somewhat hurriedly, "this place is
suggestively lonely; I think we were wiser to retire--"
"Go if you will, young sir," broke in my strange companion a little
grimly, "hasten away by all means, but I remain here."
"As you will, sir," I answered and sat down again, though careful to
keep my eyes in the one direction.
"Sir," continued the aged person, "I have seen much of men and cities,
I have journeyed in the desolate places of the world, but--"
Uttering a warning cry, I sprang to my feet as three men appeared,
desperate-seeming fellows who approached us with a very evident
intention: but suddenly, as I watched them in sweating panic, I heard
a sharp click behind me, and immediately they halted all three, their
ferocious looks smitten to surprised dismay--and glancing over my
shoulder I beheld the aged person still puffing serenely at his pipe
but with his slender right hand grasping a small, silver-mounted
pistol levelled at our would-be aggressors across his knee. And there
was something very terrible, I thought, in his imperturbable serenity.
"Rogues! Rascals!" sighed he. "To rob is sinful, to disturb the
excogitations of philosophers is blasphemous. I found it necessary to
shoot one of your sort recently--and why not again?"
At this the three began to whine while the ancient person hearkened
and puffed his pipe, viewing them with eyes of scorn.


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