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Foote, John Taintor, 1881-1950

"Blister Jones"

"
"That's it! You say things just right!" she exclaimed gratefully.
"You will get over this dread of horses," I assured her. "Because
there are murderers in the world you do not fear all men. Occasionally
there are bad horses, just as there are bad people. You shouldn't
judge all the splendid faithful creatures who spend their lives serving
us, by one vicious brute."
"Oh, I know that!" she said. "And I'll try as hard as ever I can to
get over it."
"This is quite a little woman . . . she has developed," I thought.
An unknown Blister with strange cavernous eyes, lay in the room to
which we were presently taken. I stood at the foot of the bed,
directly in his line of vision, but he did not seem to recognize me.
He looked through and beyond me. At last--
"Hello, Four Eyes!" came feebly from him. Slowly he became conscious
of the girl's face, looking down into his own. "You here, too?" he
questioned.
"Yes, dear," she said tremblingly.
The sight of the poor sick face was too much for her and she knelt
hastily to hide the tears. Then the round curve of her young bosom was
indented by his wasted shoulder as she bent and kissed him on the mouth.
A woeful scar across his cheek reddened against the white skin. A
flash of the old Blister appeared in the hollow eyes.
"There's class to that!" he said.


THE END





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blister Jones, by John Taintor Foote
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