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Dyson, Edward, 1865-1931

"The Gold-Stealers A Story of Waddy"

Think of your mother,
your brother, your own honour.'
'We can save Frank now without this.'
'You cannot be sure of that, Harry--you only hope so.'
'Am I to tell the troopers, then?'
'No, no--oh, no; I am not brave enough to say that! I cannot bear to
think of you as his hunter, his bitterest foe. 'Twas that thought made my
shame and my sorrow so terrible a burden; but I can carry it better now.'
'My poor girl! my poor girl!'
He bent his lips to the white hand upon his shoulder and kissed it
tenderly.
'God bless you, Harry!' she faltered, tears springing to her eyes. 'I
know how generous you are. As a boy you had a big brave heart, and I
admired you and loved you for it; but I can take no sacrifice that might
bring more sorrow upon your mother, that might wrong your brother and
bring shame to you.'
'But Frank's innocence will be known. Dickie Haddon heard them as good as
admit it.'
'Yes, I know the story. I made Mrs. Haddon tell me all, and I know that
they left you to drown; and now for my sake you would save him, run the
risk of being discovered assisting him to escape from justice--and the
risk is great, dear. Think what it would mean if that became known, how
it would blacken poor Frank's case. People would say they had all been in
league to rob the mine; you would be despised, your mother's heart would
break.


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