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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"Going Some"

"They don't do Mr.
Speed no good."
"All I want is a drink," panted that youthful athlete, and Helen
rose quickly, saying that she would bring ice-water.
But the trainer barked, sharply: "Nix! I've told you that twenty
times, Wally. It'll put hob-nails in your liver." He rose with
difficulty, swaying upon his feet, and where he had sat was a
large, irregular shaped, sweat-dampened area. "Come on! Don't get
chilled."
"I'd give twenty dollars for a good chill!" exclaimed the
overheated college man longingly.
"I would like to see you a moment, Mr. Speed." Roberta rose from
the hammock.
"Oh, and I've forgotten my--" Helen checked her words with a
startled glance toward the kitchen. "It will be burned to a
crisp." She hastened down the porch, and Fresno followed, while
Speed looked after them.
"He must be an awful nuisance to a nice girl. Think of a fat,
sandy-haired husband in a five-room flat with pink wall-paper and
a colored janitor. Run along, Muldoon," to Glass, "I'll be with
you in a moment."
When the trainer had waddled out of hearing, Mrs.


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