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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"The Story of a Mine"

I reckoned it was only the square thing to
look arter things gen'rally, and 'specially your traps. So, to purvent
troubil, and keep things about ekal, ez he was goin' away, I sorter
lifted this yer bag of hiz outer the tail board of his sleigh. I don't
know as it is any exchange or compensation, but it may give ye a chance
to spot him agin, or him you. It strikes me as bein' far-minded and
squar';" and with these words he deposited at the feet of the astounded
Thatcher the black travelling bag of Mr. Wiles.
"But, Bill,--see here! I can't take this!" interrupted Thatcher hastily.
"You can't swear that he's taken my bag,--and--and,--blank it all,--this
won't do, you know. I've no right to this man's things, even if--"
"Hold your hosses," said Bill gravely; "I ondertook to take charge
o' your traps. I didn't--at least that d----d wall-eyed--Thar's a
portmantle! I don't know who's it is. Take it."
Half amused, half embarrassed, yet still protesting, Thatcher took the
bag in his hands.
"Ye might open it in my presence," suggested Yuba Bill gravely.


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