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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Freckles"

It's lying awake nights I'll have to be trying to
think how I'm ever to pay her up."
"Well, begin with the muff," suggested McLean. "That should be fine."
He bent down and ruffled the rich fur of the otter lying at his feet.
"I don't exactly see how it comes to be in such splendid fur in summer.
Their coats are always thick in cold weather, but this scarcely could
be improved. I'll wire Cooper to be watching for it. They must have it
fresh. When it's tanned we won't spare any expense in making it up. It
should be a royal thing, and some way I think it will exactly suit the
Angel. I can't think of anything that would be more appropriate for
her."
"Neither can I," agreed Freckles heartily. "When I reach the city
there's one other thing, if I've the money after the muff is finished."
He told McLean of Mrs. Duncan's desire for a hat similar to the Angel's.
He hesitated a little in the telling, keeping sharp watch on McLean's
face. When he saw the Boss's eyes were full of comprehension and
sympathy, he loved him anew, for, as ever, McLean was quick to
understand.


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