The Riverman by Stewart Edward White
page 18 of 453 (03%)
page 18 of 453 (03%)
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it!'"
"That's your last word?" inquired Orde. "That's my last word, and my first. Ye that make of God's smilin' land waste places and a wilderness, by your own folly shall ye perish." "Good-day," said Orde, whirling on his heel without further argument. The young man, who had during this colloquy sat an interested and silent spectator, arose and joined him. Orde looked at his new companion a little curiously. He was a very slender young man, taut-muscled, taut-nerved, but impassive in demeanour. He possessed a shrewd, thin face, steel-gray, inscrutable eyes behind glasses. His costume was quite simply an old gray suit of business clothes and a gray felt hat. At the moment he held in his mouth an unlighted and badly chewed cigar. "Nice, amiable old party," volunteered Orde with a chuckle. "Seems to be," agreed the young man drily. "Well, I reckon we'll just have to worry along without him," remarked Orde, striking his steel caulks into the first log and preparing to cross out into the river where the work was going on. "Wait a minute," said the young fellow. "Have you any objections to my hanging around a little to watch the work? My name is Newmark-- |
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