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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"North of Fifty-Three"

Got to make the best of a bad
job," he returned. "Getting pretty tired?"
"I am," she admitted. "I'm afraid I can't ride much longer. I could
walk if you wouldn't go so fast. Aren't there any ranches in this
country at all?"
He shook his head. "They're few and far between," he said. "Don't
worry, though. It isn't a life-and-death matter. If we were out here
without grub or horses it might be tough. You're in no danger from
exposure or hunger."
"You don't seem to realize the position it puts me in," Hazel answered.
A wave of despondency swept over her, and her eyes grew suddenly bright
with the tears she strove to keep back. "If we wander around in the
woods much longer, I'll simply be a sensation when I do get back to
Cariboo Meadows. I won't have a shred of reputation left. It will
probably result in my losing the school. You're a man, and it's
different with you. You can't know what a girl has to contend with
where no one knows her. I'm a stranger in this country, and what
little they do know of me--"
She stopped short, on the point of saying that what Cariboo Meadows
knew of her through the medium of Mr. Howard Perkins was not at all to
her credit.


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