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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"Three More John Silence Stories"

"
She had instantly dashed out through the open flap and screamed at the
top of her voice, thinking the creature had actually got into the tent.
But nothing was visible, she declared, and she heard not the faintest
sound of an animal making off under cover of the darkness. The brief
account seemed to exercise a paralysing effect upon us all as we
listened to it. I can see the dishevelled group to this day, the wind
blowing the women's hair, and Maloney craning his head forward to
listen, and his wife, open-mouthed and gasping, leaning against a pine
tree.
"Come over to the stockade and we'll get the fire going," I said;
"that's the first thing," for we were all shaking with the cold in our
scanty garments. And at that moment Sangree arrived wrapped in a blanket
and carrying his gun; he was still drunken with sleep.
"The dog again," Maloney explained briefly, forestalling his questions;
"been at Joan's tent. Torn it, by Gad! this time. It's time we did
something." He went on mumbling confusedly to himself.


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