By Louis L'Amour
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It was once larger than a resort, this nameless room on a secluded aspect highway of a small nation city. No check in to signal, no questions requested, and for 5 greenbacks a guy may have 3 hours of undisturbed, illicit lovemaking. Then one night a guy with a knife became the affection nest right into a demise chamber.
The belief to the paranormal Ebenezum trilogy. "Gardener skewers all of the cliches of quest-fantasy with wit, variety, mordant irony and nice glee-this sequence might have been serialized in nationwide Lampoon or filmed by way of one of many Pythons! " (Spider Robinson)
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Additional resources for The Man from the Broken Hills: Talon and Chantry Series, Book 5
He stared at her, shocked. ” “That’s your business,” Ma said quietly. “You try them. ” “The law must take its course, ma’am,” the judge said. “We will hold them for the next session of court. ” Ma stood up, and she towered above the judge, although he stood as tall as he was able. “I won’t have time to ride back here to testify against a couple of cow thieves,” she told him. ” She walked right down to the jail and to the marshal. ” “Your prisoners? ” She took up the keys from his desk and opened the cell doors while the marshal, having no experience to guide him, stood there jawing at her.
Seven years . . seven years of blindness,” Rossiter said. “Barby Ann sees for me. Her an’ Hinge. ” “I’ve got nothing. When we’ve made our gather and drive, there won’t be much. Just what I owe the hands, and supplies for a new year . . ” He put his hand to the table, fumbling for his pipe and tobacco. Just when I was about to push it to him, his hand found it. He began loading his pipe. “I never had anything. It all turned sour on me. This here is my last stand . . ” “She’d be better off in some good-sized town.
A shod horse, and well-shod at that. Saddling the fresh horse, an almost white buckskin with black mane and tail and four black legs, I listened and looked, without seeming to. Nothing. Turning my horse into the corral, I checked the trough through which the spring had been guided to be sure there was water. There was . . but there was something else, too. There were a couple of green threads caught in the slivers at the edge of the trough—the sort of thing that might happen if a man bent over to drink from the pipe and his neckerchief caught on the slivers.