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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Trailin'!"

She got all eyes and sat still and
listened. Bein' like that he plumb made a fool out of Liz. Kidded her
along and wound up by kissing her good-bye. I didn't see none of this; I
jest heard about it later. When I come up and started talkin' jest
friendly with Liz she got sore and passed me the frosty stare. I didn't
think she could be doin' more than kiddin' me a bit, so I kept right on
and it ended up with Liz sayin' that all was over between us."
He paused on his tragedy, set his teeth over a sigh, and went on: "The
feller ain't no good. I know that from a chap that come to the house a
few hours after Bard left. Nash was his name--"
"What!"
"Nash. Feller built husky around the shoulders--looks like a fighter.
Know him?"
"Pretty well. D'you say he come to your house right after Bard left it?"
"Yep. Why?"
"How long ago was this?"
"About three days."
"Three days?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothin'."
"You look like you was goin' to murder some one, lady."
Her laughter ended with a jerk and jar.
"Maybe I am. G'wan! Tell me some more about what Nash said.


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