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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

Get
another man"--Hale almost laughed at the disappointment in the
lad's face at his first words, and the joy that came after it--
"and climb high above the shanty and come back here to me. Then
after dark we'll dash in and cinch Caliban and his customers."
"Yes, sir," said the lad. "Shall I whistle going back?" Hale
nodded approval.
"Just the same." And off Bob went, whistling like a calliope and
not even turning his head to look at the cabin. In half an hour
Hale thought he heard something crashing through the bushes high
on the mountain side, and, a little while afterward, the boy
crawled through the bushes to him alone. His cap was gone, there
was a bloody scratch across his face and he was streaming with
perspiration.
"You'll have to excuse me, sir," he panted, "I didn't see anybody
but one of my brothers, and if I had told him, he wouldn't have
let ME come. And I hurried back for fear--for fear something would
happen."
"Well, suppose I don't let you go."
"Excuse me, sir, but I don't see how you can very well help. You
aren't my brother and you can't go alone."
"I was," said Hale.


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