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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hunters of the Hills"

He
knew now that he liked the man. He felt that there was steel in his
composition, and that upon occasion, and in the service to which he
belonged, he could be hard and merciless, but the spirit seemed bright
and gallant.
"I know nothing that will keep us from being friends," replied the lad,
although he knew well what the Frenchman meant.
"Nor do I," said St. Luc. "It was merely a casual reference to the
changes that affect us all. I shall come to Albany some day, Mr. Lennox.
It is an interesting town, though perhaps somewhat staid and sober."
"If you come," said Robert sincerely, "I hope I shall be there, and it
would please me to have you as a guest."
St. Luc gave him a sharp, examining look.
"I believe you mean it," he said. "It's possible that you and I are
going to see much of each other. One can never tell what meetings time
will bring about. And now having accepted your hospitality and thanking
you for it, we must go."
He rose. Dubois, who had not spoken at all, threw over his shoulder the
heavy knapsack, and the Ojibway also stood up, gigantic and sinister.


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