Rex Ellingwood Beach
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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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The Test by Rex Ellingwood Beach
Pierre “Feroce” showed disapproval in his every attitude as plainly as disgust peered from the seams in his dark face;…
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The Thaw at Slisco’s by Rex Ellingwood Beach
The storm broke at Salmon Lake, and we ran for Slisco’s road-house. It whipped out from the mountains, all tore…
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Where Northern Lights Come Down O’ Nights by Rex Ellingwood Beach
The Mission House at Togiak stands forlornly on a wind-swept Alaskan spit, while huddled around it a swarm of dirt-covered…
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With Bridges Burned by Rex Ellingwood Beach
Louis Mitchell knew what the telegram meant, even though it was brief and cryptic. He had been expecting something of…
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