THE QUEEN OF FARRANDALE

[2]

[2]

[3]

[3]

CHAPTER I THE NE’ER-DO-WELL

THE NE’ER-DO-WELL

“I’ve never had any luck,” said Hugh Sinclair, lifting a stein of beer and emptying it in one steady draught.

The fashionably dressed man, with graying hair on his temples who sat opposite him at the table, left his own foaming mug untouched as he watched the handsome, rough-looking boy of twenty-four with a half smile.

“Nor my father before me,” added Hugh, as he set down the empty stein. “No silver spoons in the mouths of our family when they are born.”

“Your father was a pretty fine man,” remarked the other.

“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” said the boy carelessly. “I remember, Mr. Ogden, that you and he were a sort of pals. I suppose it was on his account that you looked me up to-day. I’m sorry I haven’t any better hospitality to show[4] you than a near-beer joint. These hot dogs aren’t so bad, though. Try ’em.”

[4]

The young fellow drove his fork into the food on his plate and his companion followed his example, while a brazen automatic piano in the corner crashed out “The Virginia Blues.”

John Ogden began to eat. “I love that clever human who cursed the man that put the din into dinner, and took the rest out of restaurant,” he said.

“M’h’m,” agreed Hugh with his mouth full.

“Who are left in your family?” asked Ogden. “The last time I saw you was twelve years ago, and do you know why I remember the date?”

Hugh looked up. “Can’t imagine. Something about father, I suppose.”

“No, about your sister Carol.”

 Prev. P 3/179 next