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Raine, William MacLeod, 1871-1954

"Bucky O'Connor"

''
"If we are, you are the young lady that beat us out of thirty
thousand dollars. We'll collect now," he told her, with a silky
smile and a glitter of white, even teeth.
"What do you mean? Do you think I carry money about with me?"
"I didn't say that. We'll put it up to your father."
"My father?"
"He'll have to raise thirty thousand dollars to redeem his
daughter." He let his bold eyes show their admiration. "And she's
worth every cent of it."
"Do you mean--" She read the flash of triumph in his ribald eyes
and broke off. There was no need to ask him what he meant.
"That's what I mean exactly, ma'am. You're welcome to the
hospitality of Hidden Valley. What's ours is yours. You're
welcome to stay as long as you like, but I reckon YOU'RE NOT
WELCOME TO GO WHENEVER YOU WANT TO--not till we get that thirty
thousand."
"You talk as if he were a millionaire," she told him scornfully.
"The major's got friends that are. If it's a showdown he'll dig
the dough up. I ain't a bit worried about that. His brother,
Webb, will come through."
"Why should he?" She stood as straight and unbending as a young
pine, courage regnant in the very poise of the fine head.


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