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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Drift from Two Shores"


Following this beacon, he kept on, and at last flung himself
heavily against the door of the little cabin from whose window the
light had shone. As he did so, it opened upon the figure of a
square, thickset man, who, in the impetuosity of Catron's onset,
received him, literally, in his arms.
"Captain Dick," said Roger Catron, hoarsely, "Captain Dick, save
me! For God's sake, save me!"
Captain Dick, without a word, placed a large, protecting hand upon
Catron's shoulder, allowed it to slip to his waist, and then drew
his visitor quietly, but firmly, within the cabin. Yet, in the
very movement, he had managed to gently and unobtrusively possess
himself of Catron's pistol.
"Save ye! From which?" asked Captain Dick, as quietly and
unobtrusively dropping the Derringer in a flour sack.
"From everything," gasped Catron, "from the men that are hounding
me, from my family, from my friends, but most of all--from, from--
myself!"
He had, in turn, grasped Captain Dick, and forced him frenziedly
against the wall. The captain released himself, and, taking the
hands of his excited visitor, said slowly,--
"Ye wan some blue mass--suthin' to unload your liver.


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