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There was one man live here by himself he die, they say, 'with his boots on. He, I think, mus' be that man belong to this money. What an old stiff want with two hondre' thirteen dolla'? That money goin' into a live man's clothes." Bonny slapped his chappereros, and the dust flew. "I've no objection to its going into your clothes," said the old man. "You thing I ain' particular, me?

The guides pointed due north. "Mebbe-so wan hondre mile," announced one. "But," cried Wentworth, "we're going back by way of the post, aren't we?" "We're going to hit for the railway the quickest way God will let us!" "But, I I left something that is, I have nothing to travel in but these field clothes, and they're shockingly soiled and tattered." "Soiled and tattered hell!

She say, 'feefty dollaire'! Dat more as seex hondre dollaire " "It's a lie!" cried the croupier fiercely, "the thirteen don't repeat. The sixteen win you kin see fer yourself. An' what's more, they can't no damn Injun come in here an' call me no " "Hold on!" The Texan shifted his glance to the croupier without easing the pressure on the gun. "If the sixteen win, what's the fifty bucks for?

It rung hollow like you say. I looked and found what you found." "And put her back! My soul to God! An' you here all by you'self!" "Why not? The stuff ain't mine." "Who is she? How long since anybody live here?" "I don't know, good while, I guess." "Well, sar! Look here! I open that bag. I count two hondre' thirteen dolla' make it twelve for luck, an' call it you' divvee! You strike her first.

Sullen, and dull, it scarce broke the monotony of the silence low, yet ever increasing in volume. "Another portage?" wearily asked the girl. Vermilion shook his head. "Non, eet ees de Chute. Ten miles of de wild, fast wataire, but safe eef you know de way. Me Vermilion I'm tak' de scow t'rough a hondre tam bien!" "But, you can't make it in the dark!" Vermilion laughed. "We mak' de camp to-night.

"Non! Non! De treize! De, w'at you call t'irten she repe't! A'm git mor' as seex hondre dollaire " The proprietor lumbered heavily from behind the bar and Benton noted that the thick fingers closed tightly about the handle of a bung-starter.

You no pay " The man shrugged significantly. The girl stared, dumbfounded. "What do you mean? One hundred thousand dollars! Are you crazy?" The man stepped close, his eyes gleaming wickedly. "You reech. You pay un hondre t'ousan' dollaire, or, ba gar, you nevaire com' out de bush!" Chloe laughed in derision. "Oh! I am kidnapped! Is that it? How romantic!" The man scowled.

The man's tone was truculent insulting. Chloe flushed with anger. "I am not going to leave the river! Why should I leave the river?" Again the man laughed; there was no need for concealment now. "Me, Vermilion, I'm know de good plac' back in de hills. We go for stay dere till you pay de money." "Money? What money?" "Un hondre t'ousan' dollaire cash! You pay, Vermilion he tak' you back.

In de night w'en I ain' can sleep 'cause my back hurt so bad from de whip, I'm lay in de dark an' keel dem all. Every wan I ha' keel wan hondre tam dere in de dark w'en I lay an' t'ink 'bout it. An' I know how I'm goin' do dat. Den you hit me wit de whip on de trail. All right. I'm ain' kin keel de guards.