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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Daughter of Anderson Crow"

The other members of the gang were
lounging about, surly and black-browed, chafing inwardly over the delay
in getting away from the cave.
"I don't know why you've been held here. I only know it's d---- slow.
I'd chuck the job, if there wasn't so much dust in it for me."
"But what is to become of me? I cannot endure this much longer. It is
killing me. Look! I am black and blue from pinches. The old woman never
misses an opportunity to hurt me."
"She's jealous of you because you're purty, that's all. Women are all
alike, hang 'em! I wouldn't be in this sort of work if it hadn't been
for a jealous wife."
He puffed at his pipe moodily for a long time, evidently turning some
problem over and over in his mind. At last, heaving a deep sigh, and
prefacing his remarks with an oath, he let light in upon the mystery.
"I'll put you next to the job. Can't give any names; it wouldn't be
square. You see, it's this way: you ain't wanted in this country. I
don't know why, but you ain't."
"Not wanted in this country?" she cried blankly. "I don't stand in any
one's way. My life and my love are for the peaceful home that you have
taken me from. I don't ask for anything else. Won't you tell your
employer as much for me? If I am released, I shall never interfere with
the plans of--"
"'Tain't that, I reckon. You must be mighty important to somebody, or
all this trouble wouldn't be gone through with.


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