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Updated: June 7, 2025
Now, listen, Sal," and he turned excitedly to one of the two women, who stood together on the outskirts of the little crowd of men around Thure and Bud. "Jest listen tew what this boy's own dad rit home," and again he turned his eager eyes on Thure's face. Thure laughed and repeated, in a louder voice, the story of the miner's good luck.
Quinley had started perceptibly at Thure's description of the miner's murderers, but he had quickly controlled himself, and a deadly gleam had come into his wicked little eyes and his thin lips had tightened, as, unperceived by all eyes, except the eyes the movement was intended for, he had turned and given a man standing in the edge of the circle a signal.
Conroyal turned to Thure. "Get out the map, Thure." Thure's face reddened a little, but, turning his back to Mrs. Dickson, he quickly, with the aid of his knife, ripped open the bosom of his shirt, and, pulling out the map, handed it to his father, who at once spread it out on the table in front of Dickson. "Lot's Canyon!" Dickson cried excitedly, almost the moment his eyes fell on the map.
He doesn't seem to be worrying none over our presence. Appears to think the filling of his greedy belly too important an operation to be interrupted by us," and Thure's eyes turned to where the huge grizzly was tearing with teeth and claws the carcass of the horse, his wicked little eyes turned in their direction, but otherwise giving them not the slightest attention.
"Say, but this gold-digging is no fun, no matter how you do it, is it?" and Thure's eyes swept up and down the ravine, where hundreds of men were toiling like ditch-diggers. "Fun! Gold-diggin' fun!" and Ham grinned.
"Will you will you promise to give me the first gold nugget you pick up in this wonderful cave?" Ruth said, after they had been riding and talking for some little while, glancing up a bit shyly into Thure's face. "I will have a breastpin made out of it and always wear it in remembrance of that great event and and of you," she added in a lower voice, her face flushing a little. "Sure I will!
Oh, if I only could have got hold of him before he hit me!" and tears of baffled rage filled Thure's eyes. "You're sart'in th' bag ain't thar?" and Ham glanced at the dismantled bunk and the disordered bed-clothes scattered about. "Look for yourself," and Thure sank down on one of the rude chairs and, throwing his arms disconsolately on the table, laid his aching head down on them.
It was this sight that had caused his sudden cry of alarm, followed by Thure's exclamation of horror, "They are murdering him!" and the quick jump of both boys for their horses.
"The sheriff!" yelled someone in the crowd. "It's Turner, the sheriff!" "Yes, it's Turner, the sheriff," and the man tightened his grips on Thure's and Bud's collars. "Hands off. They are my prisoners now," and he turned a bit impatiently to the men, whose hands still had hold of the boys. "Well, what have they done?" "Murder!" "Murder!" yelled a dozen voices from the crowd.
And, as Thure and Bud now stood, with uncovered heads, looking down on the quiet, peaceful face and the motionless, rigid form of the dead miner, the world-old awe and wondering concerning death thrilled their hearts. For a couple of minutes neither spoke, neither moved. Then Thure's eyes sought the face of Bud. "He is dead," he said solemnly.
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