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For the Love of a Man

           Thesledswayedandtrembled,half-startedforward. Oneofhisfeetslipped,andonemangroanedaloud. Thenthesledlurchedaheadinwhatappearedarapidsuccessionofjerks,thoughitneverreallycametoadeadstopagain...halfaninch...aninch...twoinches... Thejerksperceptiblydiminished;asthesledgainedmomentum,hecaughtthemup,tillitwasmovingsteadilyalong. 

           Mengaspedandbegantobreatheagain,unawarethatforamomenttheyhadceasedtobreathe. Thorntonwasrunningbehind,encouragingBuckwithshort,cheerywords. Thedistancehadbeenmeasuredoff,andashenearedthepileoffirewoodwhichmarkedtheendofthehundredyards,acheerbegantogrowandgrow,whichburstintoaroarashepassedthefirewoodandhaltedatcommand. Everymanwastearinghimselfloose,evenMatthewson. Hatsandmittenswereflyingintheair. Menwereshakinghands,itdidnotmatterwithwhom,andbubblingoverinageneralincoherentbabel. 

           ButThorntonfellonhiskneesbesideBuck. Headwasagainsthead,andhewasshakinghimbackandforth. ThosewhohurriedupheardhimcursingBuck,andhecursedhimlongandfervently,andsoftlyandlovingly. 

           "Gad,sir!Gad,sir!"splutteredtheSkookumBenchking. "I’llgiveyouathousandforhim,sir,athousand,sirtwelvehundred,sir." 

           Thorntonrosetohisfeet. Hiseyeswerewet. Thetearswerestreamingfranklydownhischeeks. "Sir,"hesaidtotheSkookumBenchking,"no,sir.Youcangotohell,sir. It’sthebestIcandoforyou,sir." 

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Roboto Lora
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