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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"Raw Gold A Novel"

It was beside the point to indulge
in footless theory. We knew beyond a doubt who were the active agents in
every blow that had been struck, and the first move in the tangle we
sought to unravel was to lay hands on them, violently if necessary, and
through them recover the stolen money. Only by having that in our
possession--so MacRae argued--could we hope to gain credible hearing,
and when that was accomplished whatever part Lessard had played would
develop of itself.
By and by, my brain wearied with fruitless speculation, I began to doze,
and from then till daylight I slept in five-minute snatches.
Dawn brought an access of caution, and we forbore building a fire. Our
horses, which we had picketed in the open overnight, we saddled and tied
out of sight in the brush. Then we ate a cold breakfast and betook
ourselves to the nearest hill-top, where, screened by a huddle of rocks,
we could watch for the coming of Piegan Smith; and, incidentally, keep
an eye on the redcoat camp, though the distance was too great to observe
their movements with any degree of certainty. The most important thing
was to avoid letting a bunch of them ride up on us unheralded.
"They're not setting the earth afire looking for anybody," Mac declared,
when the sun was well started on its ante-meridian journey and there
was still no sign of riders leaving the cluster of tents.


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