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Lynde, Francis, 1856-1930

"The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush"

I don't mind telling you, son, that I'm flat-footed on the
other side this time, and I had hoped you were going to be. But if
you're not, why, that's the end of it. We won't quarrel about it."
Now this was not at all the paternal attitude as the young man had been
prefiguring it. He had looked for opposition; finding it, he would have
found it possible to say some of the things which were crying to be said
and which still remained unsaid. But there was absolutely no loophole
through which he could force the attack. If his late decision had been
of no more importance than the breaking of a dinner engagement, his
father could scarcely have dismissed it with less apparent concern.
Balked and practically talked to a standstill in the business matter,
Blount switched to other things.
"I missed you to-night at dinner," he said, beginning on the new tack.
"Two of my Cambridge friends are here, and I wanted you to meet them."
The Honorable David looked up quickly.
"The fossil-digging professor and his daughter?" he queried shrewdly.
"Yes; how did you know? They came in on the Overland, and I find that
the professor has made the long journey on the strength of what I once
told him about the megatheriums and things. I guess it's up to me to
make good in some way."
"Don't you worry a minute about that, Evan, boy," was the instant
rejoinder.


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