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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"The Untamed"


In the midst of his struggle, strangely enough, he began to whistle
the music he had learned from Dan Barry, the song of The Untamed,
those who hunt for ever, and are for ever hunted. When his whistling
died away he touched his hand to his lips where Kate had kissed him,
and then smiled. The sun pushed up over the eastern hills.
When he entered the ranch house the big room was a scene of much arm
stretching and yawning as the outlaws dressed. Lee Haines was already
dressed. Buck smiled ironically.
"I say, Lee," he said, "you look sort of used up this mornin', eh?"
The long rider scowled.
"I'd make a guess you've not had much sleep, Haines," went on Buck.
"Your eyes is sort of hollow."
"Not as hollow as your damned lying heart!"
"Drop that!" commanded Silent. "You hold a grudge like a woman, Lee!
How was the watch, Buck? Are you all in?"
"Nothin' come up the valley, an' here I am at sunrise," said Buck. "I
reckon that speaks for itself."
"It sure does," said Silent, "but the gal and her father are kind of
slow this mornin'. The old man generally has a fire goin' before dawn
is fairly come. There ain't no sign of smoke now."
"Maybe he's sleepin' late after the excitement of yesterday," said
Bill Kilduff.


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