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Johnson, E. Pauline, 1861-1913

"The Moccasin Maker"

on the entire deal. He changed color and the sweat stood
out on his forehead.
"One hundred dollars this time to-morrow night," I said. He didn't
move. "And twenty per cent. One hundred dollars this time to-morrow
night," I repeated.
He began to weaken. I lit my pipe and looked indifferent, though
I knew I was a lost man if he refused--and informed. Suddenly he
stretched his hand across the table, impulsively, and closed it
over mine. I knew I had him solid then.
"Dan," he choked up, "it's a terrible thing for a divinity student
to do; but--" his fingers tightened nervously. "I'm with you!" Then
in a moment, "Find some whiskey, Dan. I'm done up."
He soon got braced enough to ask me who was in the deal, and what
timber we expected to trade for. When I told him Lige Smith and
Jack Jackson were going to help me, he looked scared and asked me
if I thought they would split on him. He was so excited I thought
him cowardly, but the poor devil had reason enough, I supposed, to
want to keep the transaction from the ears of his father, or worse
still--the bishop. He seemed easier when I assured him the boys
were square, and immensely gratified at the news that I had already
traded six quarts of the stuff for over a hundred dollars' worth of
cordwood.


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