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Under the Andes | Rex Stout | |
Before The Court |
Page 3 of 8 |
I unwrapped the poncho; then, crawling on my hands and knees, searched about the ground. As I had expected, I found another full platter and basin. I had just set the latter down after taking a hearty drink when I heard Harry's voice. "Paul." "Here, lad." "I was afraid you had gone. I've just had the most devilish dream about Desiree. She was doing some crazy dance on top of a mountain or something. and there was fire, and--Paul! Paul, was it a dream?" "No, Hal; I saw it myself. But come, we'll talk later. Here's some dried fish for breakfast." "Ah! That--that--now I remember! And she fell! I'm going--" But I wanted no more fever or delirium, and I interrupted him sternly: "Harry! Listen to me! Are you a baby or a man? Talk straight or shut up, and don't whine like a fool. If you have any courage, use it." It was stiff medicine, but he needed it, and it worked. There was a silence, then his voice came, steady enough: "You know me better than that, Paul. Only--if it were not for Desiree--but I'll swallow it. I think I've been sick, haven't I?" Poor lad! I wanted to take his hand in mine and apologize. But that would have been bad for both of us, and I answered simply: "Yes, a little fever. But you're all right now. And now you must eat and drink. Not much of a variety, but it's better than nothing." |
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