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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Golden Snare"

I imagine there are
about twenty of Upi's men there feeding on caribou. The herd was
close beyond when they made the kill. Now if we go on they're most
likely to see us, or their dogs get wind of us--and Upi is a
bloodthirsty old cutthroat. I don't want that bullet through my
gizzard, so I'm tellin' you."
Far back in Blake's eyes there lurked a gleam which Philip did not
like. Blake was not a man easily frightened, and yet he had given
what appeared to be fair warning to his enemy.
He came a step nearer, and said in a lower voice:
"Raine, that's just ONE of Upi's crowds. If you go on to the cabin
we're heading for there'll be two hundred fighting men after you
before the day is over, and they'll get you whether you kill me or
not. You've still got the chance I gave you back there. Take it--
if you ain't tired of life. Give me the girl--an' you hit out
across the Barren with the team."
"We're going on," replied Philip, meeting the other's gaze
steadily. "You know your little murderers, Blake.


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