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Punshon, E. R. (Ernest Robertson), 1872-1956

"The Bittermeads Mystery"

"
"Has he, though?" said Deede Dawson, who seemed very interested and
even a little excited. "What did he do?"
"Never you mind," Dunn repeated. "That's my affair, but I swore I'd
get even with him some day and I will, too."
"Suppose," said Deede Dawson. "Suppose I showed you a way?"
Dunn did not answer at first, and for some moments the two men stood
watching each other and staring into each other's eyes as though
each was trying to read the depths of the other's soul.
"Suppose," said Deede Dawson very softly. "Suppose you were to meet
Rupert Dunsmore--alone--quite alone?"
Still Dunn did not answer, but somehow it appeared that his silence
was full of a very deadly significance.
"Suppose you did--what would you do?" murmured Deede Dawson again,
and his voice sank lower with each word he uttered till the last
was a scarce-audible whisper.
Dunn stopped and picked up a hoe that was lying near by. He placed
the tough ash handle across his knee, and with a movement of his
powerful hands, he broke the hoe across.
The two smashed pieces he dropped on the ground, and looking at
Deede Dawson, he said:
"Like that--if ever Rupert Dunsmore and I meet alone, only one of
us will go away alive." And he confirmed it with an oath.
Deede Dawson clapped him on the shoulder, and laughed.
"Good!" he cried. "Why, you're the man I've been looking for for
a long time.


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