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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Young Forester"

I knew him by his bow-legs.
The stillness that set in began to be hard on me'. When the men were moving
about and talking I had been so interested that my predicament did not
occupy my mind. But now, with those ruffians waiting silently below, I was
beset with a thousand fears. The very consciousness that I must be quiet
made it almost impossible. Then I became aware that my one position cramped
my arm and side. A million prickling needles were at my elbow. A band as of
steel tightened about my breast. I grew hot and cold, and trembled. I knew
the slightest move would be fatal, so I bent all my mind to lying quiet as
a stone.
Greaser came limping back into the cabin, and found a seat without any one
speaking. It was so still that I heard the silken rustle of paper as he
rolled a cigarette. Moments that seemed long as years passed, with my
muscles clamped as in a vise. If only I had lain down upon my back! But
there I was, half raised on my elbow, in a most awkward and uncomfortable
position. I tried not to mind the tingling in my arm, but to think of
Hiram, of Jim, of my mustang. But presently I could not think of anything
except the certainty that I would soon lose control of my muscles and fall
over.
The tingling changed to a painful vibration, and perspiration stung my
face.


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