"I beg pardon," murmured the visitor in his thin, little voice, "but
what did I understand you to say is the fellow's name?"
"Patches; Honorable Patches," answered Phil.
"How strange! how extraordinarily strange! I should be very interested
to know something of his ancestry, and, if possible, to trace the
origin of such a peculiar name."
Phil replied with exaggerated concern. "For heaven's sake, sir, don't
say anything about the man's name in his hearing."
"He--he is dangerous, you mean?"
"He is, if he thinks anyone is making light of his name. You should ask
some of the boys who have tried it."
"But I--I assure you, Mr. Acton, I had no thought of ridicule--far from
it. Oh, very far from it."
Kitty was obliged to turn away. She arrived at the corral in time to
meet Patches, who was returning.
"You ought to be ashamed," she scolded. But in spite of herself her eyes
were laughing.
"Yes, ma'am," said Patches meekly, hat in hand.
"How could you do such a thing?" she demanded.
"How could I help doing it?"
"How could you help it?"
"Yes. You saw how he looked at me. Really, Miss Reid, I couldn't bear to
disappoint him so cruelly.
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