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Norris, Frank, 1870-1902

"McTeague"

It seemed to him that on
the next instant he MUST perforce wheel sharply eastward and rush away
headlong in a clumsy, lumbering gallop. He fought against it with all
the ferocious obstinacy of his simple brute nature.
"Go, and leave the mine? Go and leave a million dollars? No, NO, I won't
go. No, I'll stay. Ah," he exclaimed, under his breath, with a shake
of his huge head, like an exasperated and harassed brute, "ah, show
yourself, will you?" He brought the rifle to his shoulder and covered
point after point along the range of hills to the west. "Come on, show
yourself. Come on a little, all of you. I ain't afraid of you; but don't
skulk this way. You ain't going to drive me away from my mine. I'm going
to stay."
An hour passed. Then two. The stars winked out, and the dawn whitened.
The air became warmer. The whole east, clean of clouds, flamed
opalescent from horizon to zenith, crimson at the base, where the earth
blackened against it; at the top fading from pink to pale yellow, to
green, to light blue, to the turquoise iridescence of the desert sky.
The long, thin shadows of the early hours drew backward like receding
serpents, then suddenly the sun looked over the shoulder of the world,
and it was day.


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