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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Golden Snare"

You're heading straight for the gates of
hell, an' they're open--wide open."
"And you?"
This time Blake's laugh was harsher.
"I don't count--now," he said. "Since you've made up your mind not
to trade me the girl for your life I've sort of dropped out of the
game. I guess you're thinking I can hold Upi's tribe back. Well, I
can't--not when you're getting this far up in their country. If we
split the difference, and you gave me HER, Upi would meet me half
way. God, but you've spoiled a nice dream!"
"A dream?"
Blake uttered a command to the dogs.
"Yes--more'n that. I've got an igloo up there even finer than
Upi's--all built of whalebone and ships' timbers. Think of HER in
that, Raine--with ME! That's the dream you smashed!"
"And her father--and the others--"
This time there was a ferocious undercurrent in Blake's guttural
laugh, as though Philip had by accident reminded him of something
that both amused and enraged him.
"Don't you know how these Kogmollock heathen look on a father-in-
law?" he asked.


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