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Bob Hampton of Placer

Chapter 8 A LAST REVOLT

Word Count: 1969    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

oring to persuade himself that he did not in the least care what others thought, nor how his own career ended; impelling himself to constant recklessness in life and thought

rturned this carefully constructed barrier as if it had been originally built of mere cardboard

t recesses of his brain, yet so little came from this searching survey that the result left him no plan for the future. He had wandered too far away from home; the path leading back was long ago overgrown with weeds, and could not now be retraced. One thing he grasped clearly,-the girl should be given her chance; nothing in his life must ever again soil her or lower her ideals. Mrs. Her

th his back to the wall, in the little dining-room, watchful of all others present. And it was Bob Hampton who strolled carelessly out upon the darkened porch an hour later, leaving a roar of laughter behind him, and an enemy as well. Little he cared for that, however, in his presen

y, "what does this mean? Wh

r face flushing in the light streaming f

t to be," she returned, defiantly. "I a

p beside him into the shaded corner.

couldn't stand for reform any longer,

breath. "Did n't you

that goes. 'T ain't that; only I just di

I 've got to know the straight of this. You say you like Mrs.

saloon fell directly across her face. "Well," she declared, slowly, "you s

have to cut me out entirely i

it. I wasn't ever to have anything more to do with you, not even

his hand gently on her shoulder. "That was all in the day's w

-a murderer. She-she said that if I ever dared to speak to you again, Bob Hampton

quickly. "Now see here, Kid," and he turned her about so that he might look down into her eyes, "I 'm mighty glad you like me well enough to put up a kick,

t a you

nd I don't believe the sort of a gent described wo

n't all

s on a little thick. But I am no winged angel, Kid, nor exactly a model f

instinct led him to do the right thing; he drew forth the locket from beneath the folds of her dress, ho

aida? It is an

es

yours

es

those of both had

hing to offer you,-no home, no friends, no reputation. Practically I am an outlaw, existing by my wits, disreputable in the eyes of those who are worthy to live in the world. She, who was your mother, would never wish you to remain with me. She would say I did right in giving you up into the care of a good woman. Naida

eyes, and his hand closed tightly about her o

wil

sh you wasn'

nately I am," he admitted, soberly, "and

ket, the fair face pictured there smili

hink she wou

w she

h, as if the vision frightened her. "Then I will g

. Her locket hung dangling, and he slipped it back into its place and drew her slender form yet closer against his own, as they stepped forth into the black, deserted road. Once, in the last faint ray of light which gleamed from the windows of the Miners' Ret

u seeking your lost ch

res halted, peering

t was the gruff

nd I have clashed once before, and the less you have to say to-night the bet

is hand, "I am bringing back the runaway, and s

icily. "I have no desire to cultivate

regarding me, and I have indorsed it as being mainly true to life. Miss Gillis has been sufficiently shocked at thus discovering my real c

red, fingering the chain at h

t Bob H

toward him, but he stood

suppose

shoulder, his fingers trembling, altho

nothing regarding her purpose of coming to me tonight. I realize quite clearly my own deficiencies

es to me clearly as a Christian duty," she acknowledged,

I have none, for I have greater faith in the

nt lower, and pressed his lips upon it. The next moment the black night had closed him out,

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