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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

The horror of it overwhelmed Hampton; not only
did this unexpected denouement leave him utterly hopeless, but what was
he to do with the fellow? How could he bring him forth from there
alive? If this stream was indeed the Tongue, then many a mile of rough
country, ragged with low mountains and criss-crossed by deep ravines,
yet stretched between where they now were and the Little Big Horn,
where they expected to find Custer's men. They were in the very heart
of the Indian country,--the country of the savage Sioux. He stared at
the curled-up man, now silent and breathing heavily as if asleep. The
silence was profound, the night so black and lonely that Hampton
involuntarily closed his heavy eyes to shut it out. If he only might
light a pipe, or boil himself a cup of black coffee! Murphy never
stirred; the horses were seemingly too weary to browse. Then Hampton
nodded, and sank into an uneasy doze.


CHAPTER V
ALONE WITH THE INSANE
Beneath the shade of uplifted arms Murphy's eyes remained unclosed.
Whatever terrors may have dominated that diseased brain, the one
purpose of revenge and escape never deserted it.


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