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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"Raw Gold A Novel"

Then we can
sneak around without making any noise. If they're not camped on the
flat, we'll find them somewhere up the gorge. Of course, there's a
chance that they have crossed the river--but if they didn't get there
in daylight, and the river is still high, I hardly think they'd risk
fording in the dark."
"That's about the way I had sized it up," Piegan replied. "The flat
ain't bigger'n a good-sized flapjack, nohow, an' if they're on that or
up in Sage Creek canyon, we're bound t' locate 'em; kain't help hearin'
their hosses snort or cough or make some sort uh noise, if we go
careful. The worst of it is, we kain't start the ball a-rollin' till we
get that girl spotted--that's the hell of it! Like as not she'd be the
first one t' get hurt. An' if we get rambunctious an' stir 'em up in the
dark, an' _don't_ put the finishin' to 'em right then an' there--why,
they got all the show in the world t' make a hot-foot getaway. _Sabe?_
While I ain't lookin' for a chance t' sidestep the game, for I know how
yuh feel, I'd say locate 'em if we can, an' then back up a little and
wait for day."
"Oh, I know, I know!" Mac burst out. "That's sense. But it gives me the
creeps to think--to think----"
"Sure; we know it," Piegan answered softly. "We kain't tell till we get
there, anyway.


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