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The Devil's Own - A Romance of the Black Hawk War by Randall Parrish
page 47 of 347 (13%)

There was a moment's silence, then a suspicious voice, "Who the hell
are you? How do we know you ain't in on this yerself?"

"Listen, men," and I fronted them, looking straight into their eyes.
"You have a right to ask that question, and I'll tell you who I am. I
am not here in uniform, but I am an officer of the United States Army.
Captain Thockmorton will vouch for that. I pledge you my word that
this affair does not end here. I never met any of these men until I
came on board the boat at Fort Armstrong, but I have letters with me
for Governor Clark of Missouri, and Governor Reynolds of Illinois.
Either man will accept my statement regarding this matter, and I
promise you that either Kirby and Carver will return the papers and
money before we reach St. Louis, or I'll swear out a warrant for their
arrest. If you boys will stay with me we'll scare it out of them for
the sake of those girls. What do you say?"

No one spoke immediately, although there was a muttering of voices,
sounding antagonistic, and sprinkled with oaths. It was, indeed, a
poor time and place in which to appeal to the law, nor were these men
accustomed to the pleadings of mercy. I glanced across Beaucaire's
extended body, and caught the eyes of McAfee. The man lifted his hand.

"The leftenant has got this thing sized up about proper," he said
gruffly. "He's an army officer all right, fer I saw him back thar on
the island, when we wus tied up at the dock. Now look yere, boys, I'm
fer hangin' both ov them cusses just as much as eny ov the rest ov
yer--a bit more, I reckon, fer they stripped me ov my pile; along with
Beaucaire, only I was easier ter strip--but, as the leftenant says,
that ain't the p'int now. What we want ter do is get back them bills
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