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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"Flower of the North"

The terrible drive of the knife and the explosion of
Thorpe's revolver came in the same instant. Thorpe crumpled back
over the counter, clutching at his breast. Pierre turned about,
staggering, and saw Philip. His eyes lighted up, and with a
moaning cry he stretched out his arms as Philip sprang to him.
Above the sudden tumult of men's feet and excited voices he gasped
out Jeanne's name. Half a dozen men had crowded about them.
Through the ring burst MacDougall, a revolver in his hand. Pierce
had become a dead weight in Philip's arms.
"Help me over to the cabin with him, Mac," he said. He looked
around among the men. It struck him as curious, even then, that he
saw none of Thorpe's gang. "Is Thorpe done for?" he asked.
"He's dead," replied some one.
With an effort Pierre opened his eyes.
"Dead!" he breathed, and in that one word there was a tremble of
joy and triumph.
"Take Thorpe over to his cabin," commanded Philip, as he and
MacDougall lifted Pierre between them. "I will answer for this
man."
They could hear Pierre's sobbing breath as they hurried across the
open. They laid him on Philip's bunk and Pierre opened his eyes
again. He looked at Philip.
"M'sieur," he whispered, "tell me--quick--if I must die!"
MacDougall had studied medicine and surgery before engineering,
and took the place of camp physician.


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