From Sand Hill to Pine by Bret Harte
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page 16 of 222 (07%)
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laying his large hand on the young fellow's shoulder. "Be a man! You've
shown you are one, green ez you are, for you had the sand in ye--the clear grit to-night, yet you'd have been a dead man now, if I hadn't stopped ye! Man! you had no show from the beginning! You've done your level best to save your treasure, and I'm your witness to the kempany, and proud of it, too! So shet your head and--and," pouring out a glass of whiskey, "swaller that!" But Brice waved him aside with burning eyes and dry lips. "You don't know it all, Bill!" he said, with a half choked voice. "All what?" "Swear that you'll keep it a secret," he said feverishly, gripping Bill's arm in turn, "and I'll tell you." "Go on!" "THE COACH WAS ROBBED BEFORE THAT!" "Wot yer say?" ejaculated Bill. "The treasure--a packet of greenbacks--had been taken from the box before the gang stopped us!" "The h-ll, you say!" "Listen! When you told me to hand down the box, I had an idea--a d----d fool one, perhaps--of taking that package out and jumping from the coach |
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