Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley door pickup 10am - 7pm 3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611

  • Open Daily: 10am - 10pm
    Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm

    3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
    612-822-4611

Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm
3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611
Flip and Found at Blazing Star

Flip and Found at Blazing Star

Harte, Bret
General Books

Paperback

Fiction Anthologies

Currently unavailable to order

ISBN10: 115147343X
ISBN13: 9781151473431
Publisher: General Books
Pages: 58
Weight: 0.21
Height: 0.13 Width: 9.01 Depth: 5.98
Language: English
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1882 edition. Excerpt: ...to him, raised in half-brutal triumph, greeted his ears. A name was mentioned--his own! His angry hand was on the latch. One moment more and he would have burst the door, but in that instant another name was uttered--a name that dropped his hand from the latch and the blood from his cheeks. He staggered backward, passed his hand swiftly across his forehead, recovered himself with a gesture of mingled rage and despair, and, sinking on his knees beside the door, pressed his hot temples against the crack. Do I know Lance Harriott? said the voice. Do I know the d d ruffian? Did n't I hunt him a year ago into the brush three miles from the Crossing? Didn't we lose sight of him the very day he turned up yer at tf this ranch, and got smuggled over into Mon terey? Ain't it the same man as killed Arkansaw Bob--Bob Ridley--the name he went by in Sonora? And who was Bob Ridley, eh? Who? Why, you d d old fool, it was Bob Fairley--YOUR SON! The old man's voice rose querulous and indistinct. What are ye talkin' about? interrupted the first speaker. I tell you I know. Look at these pictures. I found 'em on his body. Look at 'em. Pictures of you and your girl. Pr'aps you 'll deny them. Pr'aps you 'll tell me I lie when I tell you he told me he was your son; told me how he ran away from you; how you were livin' somewhere in the mountains makin' gold, or suthin' else, outer charcoal. He told me who he was as a secret. He never let on he told it to any one else. And when I found that the man who killed him, Lance Harriott, had been hidin' here, had been sendin' spies all around to find out all about your son, had been foolin' you and tryin' to ruin your gal as he had killed your boy, I knew that he knew it too. Liab! The door fell in with a crash. There...

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