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The Red One | Jack London | |
The Hussy |
Page 14 of 15 |
"Later on I wrote to Seth Manners. The railroad hadn't killed him yet, and he pieced out a lot for me. I'll show you his letters. I've got them at the hotel. One day, he said, making his regular run, I crawled out on to the track. I didn't stand upright, I just crawled. He took me for a calf, or a big dog, at first. I wasn't anything human, he said, and I didn't know him or anything. As near as I can make out, it was ten days after the mountain-top to the time Seth picked me up. What I ate I don't know. Maybe I didn't eat. Then it was doctors at Quito, and Paloma nursing me (she must have packed that gold chip in my trunk), until they found out I was a man without a mind, and the railroad sent me back to Nebraska. At any rate, that's what Seth writes me. Of myself, I don't know. But Sarah here knows. She corresponded with the railroad before they shipped me and all that." Mrs. Jones nodded affirmation of his words, sighed and evidenced unmistakable signs of eagerness to go. "I ain't been able to work since," her husband continued. "And I ain't been able to figure out how to get back that big nugget. Sarah's got money of her own, and she won't let go a penny - " "He won't get down to THAT country no more!" she broke forth. "But, Sarah, Vahna's dead - you know that," Julian Jones protested. "I don't know anything about anything," she answered decisively, "except that THAT country is no place for a married man." |
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The Red One Jack London |
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