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The Mexican | Jack London | |
Chapter II. |
Page 2 of 2 |
"Order the guns," Rivera said, and thereupon was guilty of the longest flow of words they had ever heard him utter. "The time is short. In three weeks I shall bring you the five thousand. It is well. The weather will be warmer for those who fight. Also, it is the best I can do." Vera fought his faith. It was incredible. Too many fond hopes had been shattered since he had begun to play the revolution game. He believed this threadbare scrubber of the Revolution, and yet he dared not believe. "You are crazy," he said. "In three weeks," said Rivera. "Order the guns." He got up, rolled down his sleeves, and put on his coat. "Order the guns," he said. "I am going now." |
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The Night-Born Jack London |
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