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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Desert Gold"

"
"Laddy, I reckon we'll start soon as you're able to be put on a
hoss."
"Shore that 'll be too late."
A silence ensued, in which those who heard Ladd gazed fixedly at
him and then at one another. Lash uneasily shifted the position
of his lame leg, and Gale saw him moisten his lips with his tongue.
"Charlie Ladd, I ain't reckonin' you mean we're to ride off an'
leave you here?"
"What else is there to do? The hot weather's close. Pretty soon
most of the waterholes will be dry. You can't travel then....I'm
on my back here, an' God only knows when I could be packed out.
Not for weeks, mebbe. I'll never be any good again, even if I was
to get out alive....You see, shore this sort of case comes round
sometimes in the desert. It's common enough. I've heard of several
cases where men had to go an' leave a feller behind. It's reasonable.
If you're fightin' the desert you can't afford to be sentimental...
Now, as I said, I'm all in. So what's the sense of you waitin' here,
when it means the old desert story? By goin' now mebbe you'll get home.
If you wait on a chance of takin' me, you'll be too late. Pretty soon
this lava 'll be one roastin' hell. Shore now, boys, you'll see this
the right way? Jim, old pard?"
"No, Laddy, an' I can't figger how you could ever ask me."
"Shore then leave me here with Yaqui an' a couple of the hosses.
We can eat sheep meat. An' if the water holds out--"
"No!" interrupted Lash, violently.


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