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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The River's End"


Duggan puffed out a huge cloud of smoke and heaved a great sigh of
pleasure. Then he grunted and chuckled. "Lord, what a little firebrand
that sister of Conniston's is!" he exclaimed. "Johnny, I bet if you'd
walk in on her now, she'd kill you with her own hands. Don't see why
she hates you so, just because you tried to save your life. Of course
you must ha' lied like the devil. Couldn't help it. But a lie ain't
nothin'. I've told some whoppers, an' no one ain't never wanted to kill
me for it. I ain't afraid of McDowell. Everyone said the Chink was a
good riddance. It's the girl. There won't be a minute all her life she
ain't thinkin' of you, an' she won't be satisfied until she's got you.
That is, she thinks she won't. But we'll fool the little devil, Johnny.
We'll keep our eyes open--an' fool her!"
"Let's talk of pleasanter things," said Keith. "I've got fifty traps in
the pack, Andy. You remember how we used to plan on trapping during the
winter and hunting for gold during the summer?"
Duggan rubbed his hands until they made a rasping sound; he talked of
lynx signs he had seen, and of marten and fox. He had panned "colors"
at a dozen places along the Little Fork and was ready to make his
affidavit that it was the same gold he had dredged at McCoffin's Bend.


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