"
Hollister and Mills went back to their work on the boom. When they
finished their day's work, Lawanne had gone down to the Blands' with
Myra. After supper, as Mills rose to leave for the upper camp, he said
to Doris:
"Have you got that book of his--about the fellow that couldn't die?
I'd like to read it."
Doris gave him the book. He went away with it in his hand.
Hollister looked after him curiously. There was strong meat in
Lawanne's book. He wondered if Mills would digest it. And he wondered
a little if Mills regarded Lawanne as a rival, if he were trying to
test the other man's strength by his work.
Away down the river, now that dark had fallen, the light in Bland's
house shone yellow. There was a red, glowing spot on the river bank.
That would be Lawanne's camp. Hollister shut the door on the chill
October night and turned back to his easy-chair by the stove. Doris
had finished her work. She sat at the piano, her fingers picking out
some slow, languorous movement that he did not know, but which soothed
him like a lullaby.
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