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Chapter 7

           

           “No,”saidLinda,“wearenotafraidofyou.YoucameherewithGian’Battista.”

           “YoumeanNostromo?”saidDecoud.

           “TheEnglishcallhimso,butthatisnonameeitherformanorbeast,”saidthegirl,passingherhandgentlyoverhersister’shair.

           “Butheletspeoplecallhimso,”remarkedDecoud.

           “Notinthishouse,”retortedthechild.

           “Ah!well,IshallcallhimtheCapatazthen.”

           Decoudgaveupthepoint,andafterwritingsteadilyforawhileturnedroundagain.

           “Whendoyouexpecthimback?”heasked.

           “AfterhebroughtyouhereherodeofftofetchtheSenorDoctorfromthetownformother.Hewillbebacksoon.”

           “Hestandsagoodchanceofgettingshotsomewhereontheroad,”Decoudmurmuredtohimselfaudibly;andLindadeclaredinherhigh-pitchedvoice

           “NobodywoulddaretofireashotatGian’Battista.”

           “Youbelievethat,”askedDecoud,“doyou?”

           “Iknowit,”saidthechild,withconviction.“ThereisnooneinthisplacebraveenoughtoattackGian’Battista.”

           “Itdoesn’trequiremuchbraverytopullatriggerbehindabush,”mutteredDecoudtohimself.“Fortunately,thenightisdark,ortherewouldbebutlittlechanceofsavingthesilverofthemine.

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