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Norton, Andre, 1912-2005

"Ralestone Luck"

But he stood at ease, facing
the cabin. His hands were hanging loosely at his sides and he was
seemingly unconcerned by what confronted him. Suddenly his eyes
flickered to the bushes at one side. Had Ricky betrayed herself, Val
wondered breathlessly.
Clear now of the cabin, Val wriggled his way around the platform. In a
minute he would be able to see the Boss and Red. He gripped the club.
Then Jeems stared straight into his face. But the swamper gave no sign
of seeing Val. And that, to the boy's mind, was the greatest feat of all
that afternoon. For Val knew that if he had been in Jeems' place he
would have betrayed them both in his surprise.
The others were at last visible, their backs to Val. Nervously he sized
them up. The Boss was tall and thin, but his movements suggested
possession of wiry strength. Red, his brick-colored hair making him easy
to identify, was shorter and thick across the shoulders, but his
waistline was also thick and the boy thought that his wind was bad. Of
the two, the Boss was the more dangerous. Red might lose his head in a
sudden attack, but not the Boss. Val decided to tackle the latter.
Slowly he got from his knees to his feet. After the first quick glance,
Jeems hadn't looked at him, but Val knew that the swamper was ready and
waiting to take advantage of any diversion he might make.
"Three minutes are up, swamper. So yuh've decided to be tough, eh?"
"Whatta yo' wanna know?" Jeems' question was silly but it held their
attention.


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