Now apprehension skittered along her spine as he jumped up and, leaning over her, stared out the window. “Morgan, what’s wrong? What happened?” “Why, that damn bastard,” he breathed. “That damn, cheating bastard!” And then he was running for the door. It was clearly already too late to stop Sharpton, Sarah could see with the aid of her spectacles as she reached Morgan’s side. Sharpton and his partner were already out of range, galloping away from the train. By this time the other passengers were spilling out of the train around them, and the stationmaster had approached. “Something wrong, mister?” “The damned English bastard who just left your tram picked my pocket, and it wasn’t chicken feed he got, either!” Morgan exclaimed. “He saw which pocket I was putting my winnings in—just ask the rest of those fellows who were playing with us, back on the train!” “Sounds like you’ve been a victim of ol’ English John,” the stationmaster commented. “Yeah, sounds like English John, all right,”
What do You think about The Duchess And Desperado?
