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The Hunted Woman by James Oliver Curwood
page 24 of 316 (07%)
fall of rock, or go peacefully floating down the Athabasca. See! There's
nothing in that hand, is there?"

He stretched out an empty hand toward them, palm up.

"And now!"

A twist of the wrist so swift their eyes could not follow, a metallic
click, and the startled group were staring into the black muzzle of a
menacing little automatic.

"That's known as the sleeve trick, boys," explained Aldous with his
imperturbable smile. "It's a relic of the old gun-fighting days when the
best man was quickest. From now on, especially at night, I shall carry this
little friend of mine just inside my wristband. There are eleven shots in
it, and I shoot fairly straight. Good-day!"

Before they had recovered from their astonishment he was gone.

He did not follow the road along which Joanne had come a short time before,
but turned again into the winding trail that led riverward through the
poplars. Where before he had been a little amused at himself, he was now
more seriously disgusted. He was not afraid of Quade, who was perhaps the
most dangerous man along the line of rail. Neither was he afraid of the
lawless men who worked his ends. But he knew that he had made powerful
enemies, and all because of an unknown woman whom he had never seen until
half an hour before. It was this that disturbed his equanimity--the _woman_
of it, and the knowledge that his interference had been unsolicited and
probably unnecessary. And now that he had gone this far he found it not
easy to recover his balance. Who was this Joanne Gray? he asked himself.
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