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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

Hale had agreed to go to England once more on the sole
chance left him before he went back to chain and compass--the old
land deal that had come to life--and between them they had about
enough money for the trip.
"You'll keep an eye on things over there?" said Hale with a
backward motion of his head toward Lonesome Cove, and the Hon. Sam
nodded his head:
"All I can."
"Those big trunks of hers are still here." The Hon. Sam smiled.
"She won't need 'em. I'll keep an eye on 'em and she can come over
and get what she wants--every year or two," he added grimly, and
Hale groaned.
"Stop it, Sam."
"All right. You ain't goin' to try to see her before you leave?"
And then at the look on Hale's face he said hurriedly: "All right-
-all right," and with a toss of his hands turned away, while Hale
sat thinking where he was.
Rufe Tolliver had been quite right as to the Red Fox. Nobody would
risk his life for him--there was no one to attempt a rescue, and
but a few of the guards were on hand this time to carry out the
law. On the last day he had appeared in his white suit of
tablecloth. The little old woman in black had made even the cap
that was to be drawn over his face, and that, too, she had made of
white.


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