By Louis L'Amour
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Extra info for Trailing West (Leisure Historical Fiction)
Example text
The sacks of gold, too, were increasing. They now numbered seven, and their total would, he believed, amount to more than $5,000—probably nearer to $6,000. As he cut deeper into the rock, the vein was growing richer. He worked on his knees now. The vein had slanted downward as he cut into the base of the tower, and he was all of nine feet into the rock with the great mass of it above him. If that rock gave way while he was working, he would be crushed in an instant, with no chance of escape. Nevertheless, he continued.
Only two men sat in the dim interior, two men who played cards at a small table. The bartender leaned on the bar and read a newspaper. When the bartender turned his head, Tack recognized him. Red Furness had worked for his father. He had soldiered with him. He might still be friendly. Tack lifted his knuckles and tapped lightly on the window. At the second tap, Red looked up. Tack lighted a match and moved it past the window. Neither of the cardplayers seemed to have noticed. Red straightened, folded his paper, and then, picking up a cup, walked back toward the window.
The bartender leaned on the bar and read a newspaper. When the bartender turned his head, Tack recognized him. Red Furness had worked for his father. He had soldiered with him. He might still be friendly. Tack lifted his knuckles and tapped lightly on the window. At the second tap, Red looked up. Tack lighted a match and moved it past the window. Neither of the cardplayers seemed to have noticed. Red straightened, folded his paper, and then, picking up a cup, walked back toward the window. When he got there, he dipped the cup into the water bucket with one hand and with the other lifted the window a few inches.