Down the Mother Lode by Vivia Hemphill
page 71 of 113 (62%)
page 71 of 113 (62%)
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Not half an hour later a Chinaman crossed the creek under his pole between two swinging baskets. He found a nugget there which brought him over $30,000. This, then, is the tale of what Fortune did to Curly Gillmore. * * * * * "Whoop-ee! Ki-yi-ee hick-ee! Yi-ee-ee!" "There comes Curly," said Teddy Karns," never altering the steady flow of the whiskey he was pouring into a tin cup for Sailor Jack to drink. "Made a big strike, I hear." "Yea-ah. About $25,000, they say. Might be a million, the way the female critters run," Ted laughed, as the hurdy-gurdy girls with shrieks of laughter pounced upon the noisy newcomer. "Well, hel-lo, Nance, and Liz, and Babe, and Bouncin' Bet, old gal! All ready to help me sling it, ain't you? But where's little pale Alice?" "Oh, Allie? She's back in the tents. Sick tonight. Awful bad, she's took. She'll be shufflin' off 'fore long, an' rid o' mortal misery." "Poor little soldier!" "Sweet, she was, an' born to be good. Why, I remember (we came 'round the Horn on the same sailin' vessel) that they wasn't a ailin' baby on |
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