Excerpt: ...and now's a good time for you to start. Hurry up, McGuire; we're late already!" There was a snarl from the storekeeper, and he went for his gun, but something in the peculiarly steady eyes of the two made him stop with his fingers frozen hard around the butt. A mighty sickness overwhelmed McGuire, and before his eyes there swam a dark mist. He whispered: "You're Red Pierre?" "The clothes," repeated Pierre sternly, "on the jump, McGuire." And with a jump McGuire obeyed. His hands trembled so that he could hardly ...
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Excerpt: ...and now's a good time for you to start. Hurry up, McGuire; we're late already!" There was a snarl from the storekeeper, and he went for his gun, but something in the peculiarly steady eyes of the two made him stop with his fingers frozen hard around the butt. A mighty sickness overwhelmed McGuire, and before his eyes there swam a dark mist. He whispered: "You're Red Pierre?" "The clothes," repeated Pierre sternly, "on the jump, McGuire." And with a jump McGuire obeyed. His hands trembled so that he could hardly remove the scarf from the shoulders of the model, but afterward fear made his fingers supple. He lifted up the green gown; white, filmy clothes showed underneath. There came a sharp cry from Jack: "Turn away, Pierre; turn quick and don't dare to look. I'll take care of McGuire." And Pierre le Rouge turned, grinning. When she told him that he could look again, he found her with a bright spot of color in either cheek, and her eyes avoided his. It thrilled Pierre, and yet it troubled him, for she seemed changed, all at once, less of a comrade, and strangely aloof. McGuire was doing up the clothes in two bundles. Jacqueline took one of them and Pierre the other under his left arm; with his right hand he drew out some yellow coins. "I didn't buy these clothes because I didn't have the time to dicker with you, McGuire. I've heard you talk prices before, you know. But here's what the clothes are worth to us." And into the quaking hands of McGuire he poured a chinking stream of gold pieces. Relief, amazement, and a very wholesome fear struggled in the face of McGuire as he saw himself threefold overpaid. At that little yellow heap he remained staring, unheeding the sound of the retreating outlaws. At it he still stared with fascinated eyes while the door banged and the clatter of galloping hoofs began. "It ain't possible," he said at last, "thieves have begun to pay." His eyes sought the ceiling. "So that's Red Pierre?" said McGuire. As for Pierre...
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