Author : Randall Parrish
I had placed the lumber inside the yard as directed, and was already rehitching the traces, when the man
crossed the street slowly, switching his light cane carelessly in the air. I had noticed him before standing there
in the doorway of the drug store, my attention attracted by the fashionable cut of his clothes, and the manner
in which he watched me work. Now, as he rounded the heads of the mules, I straightened up, observing him
more closely. He was forty or forty-five, heavily built, with a rather pasty-white face, a large nose, eyes
unusually deep set, and a closely clipped mustache beginning to gray. His dress was correct to a button, and
there was a pleasant look to the mouth which served to mitigate the otherwise hard expression of countenance.
As I faced him in some surprise he looked me fairly in the eyes.
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