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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Freckles"

I told them at the office to put it with Mr. Duncan's
mail."
"Then that's likely where it is at present," said Freckles. "Duncan
comes to town only once a week, and at times not that. He's home tonight
for the first in a week. He's watching an hour for me until I come to
the Bird Woman with a bit of work I thought she'd be caring to hear
about bad. Is she where I can see her?"
The Angel's face clouded.
"What a disappointment!" she cried. "I did so want all my friends to
know you. Can't you stay anyway?"
Freckles glanced from his wading-boots to the patent leathers of some of
the Angel's friends, and smiled whimsically, but there was no danger of
his ever misjudging her again.
"You know I cannot, Angel," he said.
"I am afraid I do," she said ruefully. "It's too bad! But there is a
thing I want for you more than to come to my party, and that is to hang
on and win with your work. I think of you every day, and I just pray
that those thieves are not getting ahead of you. Oh, Freckles, do watch
closely!"
She was so lovely a picture as she stood before him, ardent in his
cause, that Freckles could not take his eyes from her to notice what her
friends were thinking.


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