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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Riders of the Silences"

Nevertheless, he was chosen and he must go.
Having reached that decision he closed his mind on what would happen.
There was a vague fear that when he faced McGurk he would be frozen
with fear; that his spirit would be broken and he would become a thing
too despicable for a man to kill.
One thing was certain: if he was to act a man's part and die a man's
death he must not stand long before McGurk. It seemed to him then that
he would die happy if he had the strength to fire one shot before
the end.
Then he tiptoed from the house and went over the snow to the barn and
saddled the horse of Hal Boone. It was already morning, and as he led
the horse to the door of the barn a shadow, a faint shadow in that
early light, fell across the snow before him.
He looked up and saw Jacqueline. She stepped close, and the horse
nosed her shoulder affectionately.
She said: "Isn't there anything that will keep you from going?"
"It's just a little ride before breakfast. I'll be back in an hour."
It was foolish to try to blind her, as he saw by her wan, unchildish
smile.


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