"You've got my name right. Malachi White it is," he said, "suah enough,
but I don't know yours. 'Pears to me, however, that they's somethin'
familiar about you. Mebbe it's the way you throw back your shoulders an'
look a fellow squah in the eyes."
Colonel Winchester smiled. No man is insensible to a compliment which is
obviously spontaneous.
"I spent a night once at your house, Mr. White," he said. "I was going
to Frankfort on horseback. I was overtaken at dusk by a storm and I
reached your place just in time. I remember that I slept on a mighty
soft feather bed, and ate a splendid breakfast in the morning."
Malachi White was not insensible to compliments either. He smiled,
and the smile which merely showed his middle front teeth at first,
gradually broadened until it showed all of them. Then it rippled and
stretched in little waves, until it stopped somewhere near his ears.
Dick regarded him with delight. It was the broadest and finest smile
that he had seen in many a long month.
"Now I know you," said Malachi White, looking intently at the colonel.
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