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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Quirt"


"What the hell!" Lone ejaculated under his breath. "I thought you were
on another trail!"
"That trail leads here, Lone. Did you find Raine yet?"
"Not a sign of her. Swan, I don't know what to make of it. I did think
them two were stalling. I thought they either hadn't seen her at all, or
had got hold of her and were trying to square themselves on the insanity
dodge. But if they know where she is, they're acting damn queer, Swan.
They _want_ her. They haven't got her yet."
"They're in the house," Swan reassured Lone. "I heard them walking. You
don't think they've got her there, Lone?"
"If they have," gritted Lone, "they made the biggest blunder of their
lives bringing me over here. No, I could see they wanted to get off
alone and hold a powwow. They expected she'd be at the Quirt."
"I think Al Woodruff, he's maybe got her, then," Swan declared, after
studying the matter briefly. "All the way he follows the trail over
here, Lone. I could see you sometimes in the trail. He was keeping hid
from the trail--I think because Raine was riding along, this morning,
and he's following.


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