"Well, I shall write with both in mind. The hope of one will stir
memories of the other. And who is there to dispute me? At least I
know what a battle should be like, and I shall thrill my readers
with imaginary combats."
O'Reilly eyed the speaker with appreciation. On the way north he
had learned to know Leslie Branch and to like him, for he had
discovered that the man possessed a rare and pleasing peculiarity
of disposition. Ordinarily Branch was bitter, irritable,
pessimistic; but when his luck was worst and his fortunes lowest
he brightened up. It seemed that he reacted naturally,
automatically, against misfortune. Certainly his and O'Reilly's
plight upon leaving Cuba had been sufficiently unpleasant, for
they were almost penniless, and the invalid, moreover, knew that
he was facing a probably fatal climate; nevertheless, once they
were at sea, he had ceased his grumbling, and had surprised his
traveling-companion by assuming a genuinely cheerful mien. Even
yet O'Reilly was not over his amazement; he could not make up his
mind whether the man was animated by desperate courage or merely
by hopeless resignation. But whatever the truth, the effect of
this typical perversity had been most agreeable. And when Leslie
cheerfully volunteered to share the proceeds of his newspaper work
during their stay in New York, thus enabling his friend to seize
the first chance of returning to Cuba, Johnnie's affection for him
was cemented.
Pages:
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204