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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Trailin'!"

He was like a relic of some earlier period when bigger
men were needed for a greater physical labour.
"What does he want?"
"I don't know. Says he wants to ask for the right of hunting on your
old place on the other side of the range. Which I'd tell a man it's jest
a lie. He knows he can hunt there if he wants to."
"Does he know me?"
"Just your name."
"Did he ask many questions about me?"
"Wanted to know what you looked like."
"And you told him?"
"A lot of things. Said you were big and grey. And I told him that story
about you and John Bard."
Drew slumped into a chair and ground the knuckles of his right hand
across his forehead. The white marks remained as he looked up again.
"What was that?"
"Why, how you happened to marry Joan Piotto and how Bard left the
country."
"That was all?"
"Is there any more, sir?"
The other stared into the distance, overlooking the question.
"Tell me what you've found out about him."
"I been after him these three days. Logan tipped him wrong, and he
started the south trail for Eldara. I got on his trail three times and
couldn't catch him till we hit Eldara.


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