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Updated: June 4, 2025
The gaunt girl Miller, who had earned MacQueen's permanent dislike by starting all the trouble, was observed sitting again at her machine, hands and feet reaching out for the accustomed levers. It made an amazing difference simply to be outdoors again. The last few minutes in the Works had been like a waxing nightmare.
But as they rode, without stopping, through what he knew must be Powderhorn Pass, as the men about him quietly grouped themselves so as to cut off any escape he might attempt, as they dropped farther and farther into the meshes of that forest-crowned net which he knew to be the Roaring Fork country, he did not need to be told he was in the power of MacQueen's gang.
During five years of residence in Australia about two hundred convicts and ticket-of-leave men passed through Mr. Macqueen's establishment, and the following account is interesting, since it serves to show what may be done, even with a convict population:
"And right then he come at you and ree-quested yore whole outfit to poke a hole in the scenery with yore front feet?" old Dave Ellis asked just as Melissy entered. "Si, Señor." "One of MacQueen's Roaring Fork gang did it, I'll bet," Alan contributed sourly. "What kind of a lookin' guy was he?" spoke up a dark young man known as Bob Farnum. "A big man, señor, and looked a ruffian."
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