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Buck, Charles Neville, 1879-1930

"A Pagan of the Hills"

As yet that was only an academic victory. Unless there stood
in the room where the instrument ticked a sufficiently strong force of
his friends to wage a successful battle, any sound from his lips would
mean only death for them and himself--without material advantage to his
cause.
Twice during his long inactivity the raucous sound of a telephone bell
jangled and he heard a voice replying to some inquiry, "No, he hain't
been here." The question so answered, he guessed, had come from Brent
seeking to locate him and confer with him as he came along the road
between Coal City and Viper. He thought very grimly and with bitter
futility of the force waiting so near and so eagerly keyed to action
under O'Keefe, which one minute of private speech would launch into a
hurricane effectiveness. In mad moments he had even tried to break the
chain between the steel bracelets that bit into his wrists. His Samson
strength had strained until the arteries swelled in his temples and it
has been almost enough--but not quite. A link had stretched a bit, but
the wrists had been so lacerated that the effort had to be abandoned.


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