قراءة كتاب The Terms of Surrender
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The Terms of
Surrender
BY
LOUIS TRACY
Author of
“The Wings of the Morning,” “One Wonderful
Night,” etc., etc.
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New York
Edward J. Clode
Publisher
Copyright 1913 by Edward J. Clode.
CONTENTS
I | At “MacGonigal’s” | 1 |
II | The Terms of Surrender | 18 |
III | Showing How Power Acquired a Limp | 34 |
IV | The Sudden Rise of Peter MacGonigal | 51 |
V | Wherein Power Travels East | 68 |
VI | The Meeting | 85 |
VII | The Forty Steps | 104 |
VIII | The Step That Counted | 124 |
IX | The Chase | 144 |
X | Nancy Decides | 164 |
XI | Power’s Home-Coming | 185 |
XII | After Darkness, Light | 205 |
XIII | The Beginning of the Pilgrimage | 226 |
XIV | The Wander-Years | 249 |
XV | The New Life | 270 |
XVI | Power Driven into Wilderness | 293 |
XVII | Showing How Power Met a Guide | 313 |
XVIII | The Second Generation | 331 |
XIX | The Settlement | 352 |
XX | The Passing of the Storm | 376 |
THE TERMS OF SURRENDER
CHAPTER I
AT “MacGONIGAL’S”
“Hullo, Mac!”
“Hullo, Derry!”
“What’s got the boys today? Is there a round-up somewhere?”
“Looks that-a way,” said Mac, grabbing a soiled cloth with an air of decision, and giving the pine counter a vigorous rub. At best, he was a man of few words, and the few were generally to the point; yet his questioner did not seem to notice the noncommittal nature of the reply, and, after an amused glance at the industrious Mac, quitted the store as swiftly as he had entered it. But he flung an explanatory word over his shoulder:
“Guess I’ll see to that plug myself—he’s fallen lame.”
Then John Darien Power swung out again into the vivid sunshine of Colorado (“vivid” is the correct adjective for sunshine thereabouts in June about the hour of the siesta) and gently encouraged a dispirited mustang to hobble on three legs into the iron-roofed lean-to which served as a stable at “MacGonigal’s.” Meanwhile, the proprietor of the store gazed after Power’s retreating figure until neither man nor horse was visible. Even then, in an absent-minded way, he continued to survey as much of the dusty surface of the Silver State as was revealed through the rectangle of the doorway, a vista slightly diminished by the roof of a veranda. What he saw in the foreground was a whitish brown plain, apparently a desert, but in reality a plateau, or “park,” as the local name has it, a tableland usually carpeted not only with grama and buffalo grasses curing on the stem, but also with flowers in prodigal abundance and of bewildering varieties. True, in the picture framed by the open door neither grass-stems nor flowers were visible, unless to the