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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"The Untamed"


What's that?" His voice had gone suddenly husky.
A russet moon pushed slowly up through the trees. Its uncertain light
fell across the clearing. For the first time the thick pale smoke of
the fire was visible, rising straight up until it cleared the tops of
the willows, and then caught into swift, jagging lines as the soft
wind struck it. A coyote wailed from the distant hills, and before
his complaint was done another sound came through the hushing of the
willows, a melancholy whistling, thin with distance.
"We'll see if that's the man you want," suggested Haines.
"I'll go along," said Shorty Rhinehart.
"And me too," said a third. The whole group would have accompanied
them, but the heavy voice of Jim Silent cut in: "You'll stay here, all
of you except the girl and Lee."
They turned back, muttering, and Kate followed Haines into the
willows.
"Well?" growled Bill Kilduff.
"What I want to know--" broke in Terry Jordan.
"Go to hell with your questions," said Silent, "but until you go there
you'll do what I say, understand?"
"Look here, Jim," said Hal Purvis, "are you a king an' we jest your
slaves, maybe?"
"You're goin' it a pile too hard," said Shorty Rhinehart.


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