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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police; a tale of the Macleod trail"


It is an old trick, but long ago played out."
Then the Frenchman fell into a rage.
"Eet ees no treeck!" sputtered La Belle. "Eet ees too queeck for him."
"All right!" said Dr. Kane. "You are to start after the word 'Go.'
Remember! Sorry we have no pistol."
Once more the competitors crouched over the scratch.
"All set? Go!"
Like the releasing of a whirlwind the four runners spring from the
scratch, La Belle, whose specialty is his "get away," in front,
Fullerton and Cameron in second place, Cahill a close third. A blanket
would cover them all. A tumult of cheers from the friends of the various
runners follows them along their brief course.
"Who is it? Who is it?" cries Mandy breathlessly, clutching Mack by the
arm.
"Cameron, I swear!" roars Mack, pushing his way through the crowd to the
judges.
"No! No! La Belle! La Belle!" cried the Frenchman's backers from the
city. The judges are apparently in dispute.
"I swear it is Cameron!" roars Mack again in their ears, his eyes aflame
and his face alight with a fierce and triumphant joy. "It is Cameron I
am telling you!"
"Oh, get out, you big bluffer!" cries a thin-faced man, pressing close
upon the judges. "It is La Belle by a mile!"
"By a mile, is it?" shouts Mack. "Then go and hunt your man!" and with
a swift motion his big hand falls upon the thin face and sweeps it clear
out of view, the man bearing it coming to his feet in a white fury some
paces away.


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Kody Do Gier
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