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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Young Forester"

In that moment he would have killed me.
Herky-Jerky met his onslaught, and flung him back. Then, with his hand on
the butt of his revolver, he spoke:
"Buell, hyar's where you an' me split. You've bungled your big deal. The
kid stacked the deck on you. But I ain't a-goin' to see you do him harm fer
it."
"Herky's right, boss," put in Bill, "thar's no sense in addin' murder to
this mess. Strikes me you're in bad enough."
"So thet's your game? You're double-crossin' me now--all on a chance at
kidnappin' for ransom money. Well, I'm through with the kid an' all of you.
Take thet from me!"
"You skunk!" exclaimed Herky-Jerky, with the utmost cheerfulness.
"Wal, Buell," said Bill, in cool disdain, "comsiderin' my fondness fer
fresh air an' open country, I can't say I'm sorry to dissolve future
relashuns. I was only in jail onct, an' I couldn't breathe free."
It was then Buell went beside himself with rage. He raised his huge fists,
and shook himself, and plunged about the room, cursing. Suddenly he picked
up an axe, and began chopping at the rotten log above the hole where
Greaser had slipped out. Bud yelled at him, so did Bill; Herky-Jerky said
unpleasant things. But Buell did not hear them. He hacked and dug away like
one possessed. The dull, sodden blows fell fast, scattering pieces of wood
about the floor.


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