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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"Raw Gold A Novel"

"
"Then I tell yuh what let's do," Piegan abruptly decided. "I like t'
know what's liable t' happen when I'm on a jaunt uh this kind. One of us
better head in for the Crossin' an' find out for sure if any uh them
fellers come t' the camp, an' what he wanted there. An' seein' nobody
outside uh Horner knows I'm in on this play, I reckon I better go
m'self. If there should happen t' be a stray trooper hangin' round
there, the same would be mighty awkward for you fellers. So I'll go. You
poke along the trail slow, an' I'll overhaul yuh."
"All right," MacRae agreed, and Piegan forthwith departed for the
Crossing.
After Piegan left us we rode at a walk, and even then it was something
of a task to follow the faint impression. In the course of an hour a
cluster of dark objects appeared on the bench, coming rapidly toward us.
MacRae brought the glasses to bear on them at once, for there was always
the unpleasant possibility of Mounted Policemen cutting in on our trail;
the riders of every post along the line were undoubtedly on the watch
for us.
"It's Piegan and another fellow," Mac announced shortly. "They're
leading two extra horses, and Piegan has changed mounts himself. I
wonder what's up--they seem to be in a dickens of a hurry."
We got off and waited for them, wondering what the change of horses
might portend.


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