Short stories
The hut was both cold and dark. There were no windows to admit the light of the waning day, but through every crack and chink penetrated the sharp, bitter air of January. Alva Jukes, standing in the doorway, saw only white ovals of faces staring upward from the wretched pallet...
The hut was both cold and dark. There were no windows to admit the light of the waning day, but through every crack and chink penetrated the sharp, bitter air of January. Alva J...
2. Part 2“Stick to your debatin’, old man. You c’n do better at it. Leave the guns to a fightin’ man. Le’s go, now. I ain’t got time to waste on a fat old turkey-cock like you.”