[The Lure of the North by Harold Bindloss]@TWC D-Link book
The Lure of the North

CHAPTER XXVIII
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The men were locked in a savage grapple at the edge of the ledge and the ripples splashed upon the rocks four or five feet below.

Stormont had been deceived to the end.

It is hard for a white man to match the instinctive cunning that goes with a strain of Indian blood, and Drummond had suspected that the other meant to pick up the stone.
Neither saw Thirlwell.

They swayed and panted, striking when they got an arm loose, and then pressing body against body while each strained for a grip to lift his antagonist from his feet.

Stormont, indeed, made a better fight than Thirlwell had expected, but after a time his knees bent, his head went back, and Drummond threw him heavily.


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