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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"Raw Gold A Novel"

It'll go that much 'arder with
you--there ain't a bloomin' chance for you t' get away. You might just
as well give up peaceable."
"Oh, don't preach," MacRae protested. "I know all that as well as you
do. Great Scott! Burky, you've known me ever since I joined; do you
imagine for a minute that I was in on that hold-up? Why, you know
better. If I'd done anything so damned rotten, I'd have been out of the
country long before this."
"Orders is orders," Burky sententiously observed. "Headquarters sez
you're t' be took in, an' you'll be took in, no matter what a feller's
private opinion happens t' be. I ain't no bloomin' judge an' jury t'
set on your case, anyway. You'll get a square trial--same as everybody
gets. But you ain't a-helpin' yourself a-cuttin' of didoes like this."
"I haven't time to go into details," Mac told him, "and I don't suppose
you'd believe me if I did. But I've a blamed good reason for not wanting
to put in several months cooling my heels under guard while the men that
got the stuff get clear out of the country. We're going to take two of
these horses, because we'll need them in our business; and we'll leave
your guns at that big rock down the ridge. I don't want to hurt you,
Burky, but if you start making signals to the rest of the bunch before
we get out of sight, you'll go back to Walsh feet first.


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