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

"The Forfeit"

No. It's later on you see things diff'rent.
Make good, an' you see troubles wher' there shouldn't be none. You an'
me we're guessin' to make a pile o' dollars, so we could set up a
palace on 5th Av'noo, New York, if we was yearnin' that-a-way. I don't
reckon there's many fellers 'ud find trouble in such a play as that.
Wal, I'd be willing enough to turn it all down, an' pitch camp right
here among these hills, an' chase pelts for the few dollars needed to
keep the wind from rattling my bones--'cep' fer Nan."
"Ah yes--Nan. There's Nan to think of. And Nan's more to you, Bud,
than anything else in life. Say, your little girl's a bright jewel. I
don't need to say a word about her value, eh? But some day you're
going to lose her. And then?"
Bud's eyes came round upon him and for some moments encountered Jeff's
steady regard. Then he looked away, and slowly all its simple delight
dropped from the strong weather-tanned face, to be replaced by an
almost painful dejection. Presently he turned again, and, in a moment,
Jeff found an added interest in the wonderful scene that lay ahead of
him.


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