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The Clinging Death

           "Correct,"Scottanswered,passingthemoneyovertohim."Aman’sgothisrights.Butyou’renotaman.You’reabeast." 

           "WaittillIgetbacktoDawson,"BeautySmiththreatened."I’llhavethelawonyou." 

           "IfyouopenyourmouthwhenyougetbacktoDawson,I’llhaveyourunoutoftown.Understand?" 

           BeautySmithrepliedwithagrunt. 

           "Understand?"theotherthunderedwithabruptfierceness. 

           "Yes,"BeautySmithgrunted,shrinkingaway. 

           "Yeswhat?" 

           "Yes,sir,"BeautySmithsnarled. 

           "Lookout!He’llbite!"someoneshouted,andaguffawoflaughterwentup. 

           Scottturnedhisbackonhim,andreturnedtohelpthedog-musher,whowasworkingoverWhiteFang. 

           Someofthemenwerealreadydeparting;othersstoodingroups,lookingonandtalking. TimKeenanjoinedoneofthegroups. 

           "Who’sthatmug?"heasked. 

           "WeedonScott,"someoneanswered. 

           "AndwhoinhellisWeedonScott?"thefaro-dealerdemanded. 

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