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Raine, William MacLeod, 1871-1954

"Bucky O'Connor"


"May I speak to him?" asked O'Connor.
"It is against the rules, senor, but if you will be brief--" The
colonel shrugged, and turned his back to them, in order not to
see. It must be said for Gabilonda that his capacity for blinking
what he did not think it judicious to see was enormous.
"You are David Henderson, are you not?" The ranger asked, in a
low voice.
Surprise filtered into the dull eyes. "That was my name," the man
answered bitterly. "I have a number now."
"I come from Webb Mackenzie to get you out of this," the ranger
said.
The man's eyes were no longer dull now, but flaming with hatred.
"Curse him, I'll take nothing from his hands. For fifteen years
he has let me rot in hell without lifting a hand for me."
"He thought you dead. It can all be explained. It was only last
week that the mystery of your disappearance was solved."
"Then why didn't he come himself? It was to save his little girl
I got myself into this place. If I had been in his shoes I would
have come if I'd had to crawl on my hands and knees."
"He doesn't know yet you are here. I wrote him simply that I knew
where you were, and then I came at once.


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