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White, Stewart Edward, 1873-1946

"The Rules of the Game"


"I think I do," said Baker. "Who's to decide? You believe one way, I
believe another. I know what you think of my methods in business; and
I'd hate to say what I think of you as the blue ribbon damn fool in
that respect. But I like you, and I'm willing to admit you've got stuff
in you; and I know damn well you and your father and I can have a fine
young lunch talking duck-shooting and football. And with all my faults
you love me still, and you know you do." He smiled winningly, and hooked
his arm through Bob's on one side and his father's on the other. "Come
on, you old deacon; play the game!" he cried.
Bob laughed, and gave in.


XXXIX

Bob took his father with him back to headquarters. They rode in near the
close of day; and, as usual, from the stovepipe of the roofless kitchen
a brave pillar of white smoke rose high in the shadows of the firs. Amy
came forth at Bob's shout, starched and fresh, her cheeks glowing with
their steady colour, her intelligent eyes alight with interest under the
straight, serene brows. At sight of Orde, the vivacity of her manner
quieted somewhat, but Bob could see that she was excited about
something.


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