Small Story
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Pardners by Rex Ellingwood Beach
“Most all the old quotations need fixing,” said Joyce in tones forbidding dispute. “For instance, the guy that alluded to…
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Running Elk by Rex Ellingwood Beach
Up from the valley below came the throb of war drums, the faint rattle of shots, and the distant cries…
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The Colonel and the Horse-Thief by Rex Ellingwood Beach
“We’ve got to eat, and so’s the horses, but no rancher is goin’ to welcome with open arms as disreputable…
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The Cub Reporter by Rex Ellingwood Beach
Why he chose Buffalo Paul Anderson never knew, unless perhaps it had more newspapers than Bay City, Michigan, and because…
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The Moon, the Maid, and the Winged Shoes by Rex Ellingwood Beach
The last place I locked wheels with Mike Butters was in Idaho. I’d just sold a silver-lead prospect and was…
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The Mule Driver and the Garrulous Mute by Rex Ellingwood Beach
Bill had finished panning the concentrates from our last clean-up, and now the silver ball of amalgam sizzled and fried…
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The North Wind’s Malice by Rex Ellingwood Beach
It had snowed during the night, but toward morning it had grown cold; now the sled-runners complained and the load…
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The Real and the Make-Believe by Rex Ellingwood Beach
On his way down-town Phillips stopped at a Subway news-stand and bought all the morning papers. He acknowledged that he…
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The Scourge by Rex Ellingwood Beach
Coming down coast from the Kotzebue country they stumbled onto the little camp in the early winter, and as there…
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The Shyness of Shorty by Rex Ellingwood Beach
Bailey smoked morosely as he scanned the dusty trail leading down across the “bottom” and away over the dry grey…
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