SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 146 | Next

Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Freckles"

They
went on--not entirely from sight--and began cutting a tree. Mr. McLean
told me the other day what would probably happen here, and if they fell
that tree he loses his wager on you. Keep to the east and north and
hustle. We'll meet you at the carriage. I always am armed. Give Angel
one of your revolvers, and you keep the other. We will separate and
creep toward them from different sides and give them a fusillade that
will send them flying. You hurry, now!"
She lifted the reins and started briskly down the trail. The Angel,
hatless and with sparkling eyes, was clinging around her waist.
Freckles wheeled and ran. He worked his way with much care, dodging
limbs and bushes with noiseless tread, and cutting as closely where
he thought the men were as he felt that he dared if he were to remain
unseen. As he ran he tried to think. It was Wessner, burning for his
revenge, aided by the bully of the locality, that he was going to meet.
He was accustomed to that thought but not to the complication of having
two women on his hands who undoubtedly would have to be taken care of in
spite of the Bird Woman's offer to help him.


Pages:
134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158