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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Riders of the Silences"

He was gone a long time, and when I went out to look for
him I found the can at the margin of the river half filled with sand,
and beside it there was the impression of the body of a big man. That
was all I found, and Dick never came back."
They were both silent for a moment.
"Could he have fallen into the river?"
"Sure. He was probably helped in. Did you look for the footprints?"
"I didn't think of that."
Jack was speechless with scorn.
"Sat down and cried, eh?"
"I was dazed; I couldn't think. But he couldn't have been killed by
some other man. There was no shot fired; I should have heard it."
Jack moistened his lips.
"Lady, a knife don't make much sound either going or coming out--not
much more sound than a whisper, but that whisper means a lot. I got an
idea that Dick heard it. Then the river covered him up."
He stopped short and stared at Mary with squinted eyes.
"D'you mean to tell me that you had the nerve to come all the way up
the Old Crow by yourself?"
"Every inch of the way.


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