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Lynde, Francis, 1856-1930

"The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush"

Had his father repented so far as to
override the obstacle which he himself had interposed? Patricia was
holding the tonneau-door open, and Blount got in and took his seat
beside her.
A small engineering feat, made possible by the power plant of the big
car and the tow-rope, soon cleared the way of the wrecked roadster and
the tree. Then the senator gave another order.
"You and Billy stay here and see if you can't get that roadster so you
can run it to town on its own power," he said to the chauffeur; and over
his shoulder to the pair behind him: "If you'll change partners back
there, and let Honoria ride on the cushions--"
Though he could not remotely apprehend his father's reason for the
rearrangement, Blount got out, helped Mrs. Honoria down and up again,
and then climbed into the seat she had just vacated. At the click of the
tonneau door-latch the big car rolled on down the grade, and for a good
half of the straightaway fifteen miles to the city the younger man held
his peace grimly. Finally he turned to his father and said:
"I'm blaming you for the tree, and for Barto's attempt to get those
papers away from me. Am I wrong?"
The Honorable David shook his head.
"This close to an election you're mighty near safe in blaming anybody
and everybody in sight, son," he returned gravely; and apart from this
small break in the monotony, the second half of the fifteen miles went
speechless.


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