The Mucker


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Yes! It must be he. Greedily she read and re-read all that had been written about  
him. Yes, she, Barbara Harding, scion of an aristocratic house--ultra-society girl,  
read and re-read the accounts of a brutal prize fight.  
A half hour later a messenger boy found "Sailor" Byrne the center of an admiring  
throng in Professor Cassidy's third-floor gymnasium. With worshiping eyes taking  
in his new hero from head to foot the youth handed Byrne a note.  
He stood staring at the heavy weight until he had perused it.  
"Any answer?" he asked.  
"No answer, kid," replied Byrne, "that I can't take myself," and he tossed a dollar  
to the worshiping boy.  
An hour later Billy Byrne was ascending the broad, white steps that led to the  
entrance of Anthony Harding's New York house. The servant who answered his  
ring eyed him suspiciously, for Billy Byrne still dressed like a teamster on  
holiday. He had no card!  
"Tell Miss Harding that Mr. Byrne has come," he said.  
The servant left him standing in the hallway, and started to ascend the great  
staircase, but halfway up he met Miss Harding coming down.  
"Never mind, Smith," she said. "I am expecting Mr. Byrne," and then seeing that  
the fellow had not seated her visitor she added, "He is a very dear friend." Smith  
faded quickly from the scene.  
"Billy!" cried the girl, rushing toward him with out-stretched hands. "O Billy, we  
thought you were dead. How long have you been here? Why haven't you been to  
see me?"  
Byrne hesitated.  
A great, mad hope had been surging through his being since he had read of the  
broken engagement and received the girl's note. And now in her eyes, in her  
whole attitude, he could read, as unmistakably as though her lips had formed the  
words that he had not hoped in vain.  
But some strange influence had seemed suddenly to come to work upon him.  
Even in the brief moment of his entrance into the magnificence of Anthony  
Harding's home he had felt a strange little stricture of the throat--a choking, half-  
suffocating sensation.  
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