[Beth Norvell by Randall Parrish]@TWC D-Link book
Beth Norvell

CHAPTER IX
17/19

The coroner calls it an accident; the preachers, a dispensation of Providence; while the fellows who really know never come back to tell.

If merely one is desired, a well-directed shot from out a cedar thicket affords a most gentlemanly way of shuffling off this mortal coil." "You would not! You dare not!" "I?
Why, such a thought is preposterous, of course, for the risk would be entirely unnecessary.

Quite evidently you are not well acquainted with one of the flourishing industries of this section, my dear.

There are always plenty of men out of a job in this camp; conscience does n't come high, and the present market price for that sort of work is only about twenty-five dollars a head.

Not unreasonable, all things considered, is it ?" If she had not thoroughly known this man, had not previously sounded his depths, she might have doubted his meaning, deceived by the lazy drawl in his soft voice, the glimmer of grim humor in his eyes.


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