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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"The Untamed"


"He'd like to be, but he don't quite fit her idea of a man. We'd all
like to be, for that matter. She's a ravin' beauty, Buck. One of these
blue-eyed, yaller-haired kind, see, with a voice like silk. Speakin'
personal, I'm free to admit she's got me stopped."
Buck drew so hard on the diminishing butt of his cigarette that he
burned his fingers.
"Can't do nothin' with her?" he queried.
"What you grinnin' about?" said Purvis hotly. "D'you think _you'd_
have any better luck with her?"
Buck chuckled.
"The trouble with you fellers," he said complacently, "is that you're
all too damned afraid of a girl. You all treat 'em like they was
queens an' you was their slaves. They like a master."
The thin lips of Purvis curled.
"You're quite a man, ain't you?"
"Man enough to handle any woman that ever walked."
Purvis broke into loud laughter.
"That's what a lot of us thought," he said at last, "but she breaks
all the rules. She's got her heart set on another man, an' she's that
funny sort that don't never love twice. Maybe you'll guess who the man
is?"
Buck frowned thoughtfully to cover his growing excitement.
"Give it up, Buck," advised Purvis.


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