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Bindloss, Harold, 1866-1945

"Winston of the Prairie"

"He didn't appear to know me, and his head seems all kicked
in."
It was not apparent how the news went round, but in a few more minutes
Dane was kneeling beside a limp, blackened object stretched amid the
grass, and while his comrades clustered behind her, Maud Barrington
bent over him. Her voice was breathless as she asked, "You don't
believe him dead?"
Somebody had brought a lantern, and Dane felt inclined to gasp when he
saw the girl's white face, but what she felt was not his business then.
"He's of a kind that is very hard to kill. Hold that lantern so I can
see him," he said.
The rest waited silent, glad that there was somebody to take a lead,
and in a few moments Dane looked round again.
"Ride in to the settlement, Stapleton, and bring that Doctor fellow out
if you bring him by the neck. Stop just a moment. You don't know
where you're to bring him to."
"Here, of course," said the lad, breaking into a run.
"Wait," and Dane's voice stopped him. "Now, I don't fancy that would
do. It seems to me that this is a case in which a woman to look after
him would be necessary."
Then, before any of the married men or their wives who had followed
them could make an offer, Maud Barrington touched his shoulder.
"He is coming to the Grange," she said.
Dane nodded, signed to Stapleton, then spoke quickly to the men about
him and turned to Maud Barrington.
"Ride on at a gallop and get everything ready. I'll see he comes to no
harm," he said.


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