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Cullum, Ridgwell, [pseud.], 1867-1943

"The Forfeit"


Guess I know this territory same as you know the playgrounds o' the
college that handed you your knowledge o' figgers. Know it? Say, you
could dump me right down anywhere around here for fifty miles an' more,
an' I'd travel straight here same as the birds fly." He laughed again.
"When you said you'd the notion of huntin' out your brother, who was
huntin' these hills, you give me the excuse I'd been yearnin' to find
in years. I wanted to see these hills again. I wanted it bad. Guess
I was jest crazy fer it. It didn't get me figgerin' long, either, to
locate wher' we'd likely find that boy you're lookin' fer. Ther' ain't
no better huntin' ground than around this valley. It's sort of
untouched since my father died, an' I had to quit it and take to
punchin' cattle. Then ther's that post he built. A dandy place, with
nigh everything a pelt hunter needs fer his comfort. We're making for
that post right now, an' when we make it I'm guessin' we ain't goin' to
chase much farther to locate that twin brother of yours.


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