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Buck, Charles Neville, 1879-1930

"A Pagan of the Hills"

"
Jerry spoke from the bed, where he lay conscious now, but still very
weak.
"Things looked mighty unsartain--fer a spell."
And the girl answered in a silvery voice that held the thrill of
invincible courage. "Nothin' hain't never goin' ter be unsartain fer
us from now on. Hit teks fire, I reckon, ter weld iron--but----"
The enfeebled man tried to raise himself on his elbow, but she gently
pressed him back.
"Does ye mean hit, Alexander?" he whispered tensely. "Hit hain't jest
because I've been hurted a leetle--an' ye're compassionate fer me?"
"Jerry," she said and her voice became all at once softly tremulous,
"jest es soon as ye're able I wants ye ter tek me in yore arms--an' I
don't never want ye ter let me go ergin!"
"I'll git thet strong right soon," he declared with a fervor that
brought the strength back to his voice--and the sparkle back into his
blood-shot eyes.

Jack Halloway came into his rooms one day in early September and ran
through some mail that lay piled on his table. He was not in a happy
humor. The business here had dragged out to the annoying length of six
weeks and his mind was busy with anxiety centering on the hills.


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