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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Riders of the Silences"


I've thought of you like a kid brother. Now tell me that you haven't
done this thing, and I'll believe you rather than my senses. Tell me
you haven't stolen the girl I love away from me; tell me--"
"I love her, Dick."
"Damn you! And she?"
"She'll forget me; God knows I hope she'll forget me." "I brought
two guns with me. Here they are."
He held out the weapons.
"Take your choice."
"Does it have to be this way?"
"If you'd rather have me shoot you down in cold blood?"
"I suppose this is as good a way as any."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Give me a gun."
"Here. This is ten paces. Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Pierre. God forgive you for what you've done. She liked me, I know.
If it weren't for you, I would have won her and a chance for real life
again--but now--damn you!"
"I'll count to ten, slowly and evenly. When I reach ten we fire?"
"Yes."
"I'll trust you not to beat the count, Dick."
"And I you. Start."
He counted quietly, evenly: "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight, nine--ten!"
The gun jerked up in the hand of Wilbur, but he stayed the movement
with his finger pressing still upon the trigger.


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