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By Kirk Munroe
A Tale of the Spanish-American War
Author of “The Painted Desert,” “Rick Dale,” The “Mate Series,” etc.
New York and London
I. A BOWL OF ROSES
THE ROUGH RIDERS FOUGHT WITHOUT SEEING THE ENEMY . . . (Frontispiece)
“SILAS PINE GAZED ABOUT HIM WITH THE AIR OF ONE WHO IS DAZED”
“’HIM HOLGUIN SPANIARD. NOW YOU SHOOT HIM,’ SAID THE CUBAN”
RIDGE ESCORTS A CUBAN FAMILY INTO SANTIAGO
A BOWL OF ROSES
In the morning—room of a large, old—fashioned country—house, situated a few miles outside the city of New Orleans, sat a young man arranging a bowl of roses. Beside him stood a pretty girl, in riding costume, whose face bore a trace of petulance.
“Do make haste, Cousin Ridge, and finish with those stupid flowers. You have wasted half an hour of this glorious morning over them already!” she exclaimed.
“Wasted?” rejoined Ridge Norris, inquiringly, and looking up with a smile. “I thought you were too fond of flowers to speak of time spent in showing them off to best advantage as ’wasted.’”
“Yes, of course I’m fond of them,” answered Spence Cuthbert, who was from Kentucky on a Mardi Gras visit to Dulce Norris, her school—chum and cousin by several removes, “but not fond enough to break an engagement on account of them.”
“Certainly. You promised to go riding with me this morning.”
“And so I will in a minute, when I have finished with these roses.”
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