He had gained admission somehow, and he too was waiting for Anna. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. At the sight of her he became rigid and a singularly bright shade of pink. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better. ] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC.
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