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The constable's life was at stake. It had been necessary to move swiftly and decisively. Sitting before the fire, Sleeping Dawn began to tell her story. She told it to Beresford as an apology for having ridden forty miles with Onistah to save his life. It was, if he chose so to accept it, an explanation of how she came to do so unwomanly a thing. "Onistah's mother is my mother," she said.
In spite of Onistah's assurance her heart was troubled for him. West and Whaley would study the tracks and come to at least an approximation of the truth. She did not dare think of what the gorilla-man would do to her friend if they captured him. And how was it possible that they would not find him? His footsteps would be stamped deep in the snow. He could not travel fast.
I can take a hint without waiting for a church to fall on me. Get some one else to take your messages." "If you're going back to town I thought perhaps you'd tell him how much I need him," she pleaded. "Then he'd come right away." Onistah's head vanished. He knew what he had to do and no doubt was already on the trail. Outside it was dark.
For Angus was not only the patriarch of the clan, if such a loose confederation of followers could be called a clan; he was esteemed for his goodness and practical common sense. Onistah's heart swelled with an emotion that was more than vanity.
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