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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"Three More John Silence Stories"

The terror had stretched out, so to speak, a first tentative
feeler toward us and had touched the hearts of each with a horrid
directness. And from this moment the Camp changed.
Sangree in particular was visibly upset. He could not bear to see the
girl distressed, and to hear her actually cry was almost more than he
could stand. The feeling that he had no right to protect her hurt him
keenly, and I could see that he was itching to do something to help, and
liked him for it. His expression said plainly that he would tear in a
thousand pieces anything that dared to injure a hair of her head.
We lit our pipes and strolled over in silence to the men's quarters, and
it was his odd Canadian expression "Gee whiz!" that drew my attention to
a further discovery.
"The brute's been scratching round my tent too," he cried, as he pointed
to similar marks by the door and I stooped down to examine them. We both
stared in amazement for several minutes without speaking.
"Only I sleep like the dead," he added, straightening up again, "and so
heard nothing, I suppose.


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