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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Black Jack"

"
But Terry grinned mirthlessly.
"You know I'm the son of Black Jack Hollis," he insisted. "You think that
if you keep me you'll wake up some morning to find your son's throat cut
and your cattle gone. Am I right?"
"Listen to me," the rancher said uncertainly. "I know how you feel about
losing a job so suddenly when you figured it for a whole season. Suppose
I give you a whole month's pay and--"
"Damn your money!" said Terry savagely. "I don't deny that Black Jack was
my father. I'm proud of it. But listen to me, my friend. I'm living
straight. I'm working hard. I don't object to losing this job. It's the
attitude behind it that I object to. You'll not only send me away, but
you'll spread the news around--Black Jack's son is here! Am I a plague
because of that name?"
"Mr. Hollis," insisted the rancher in a trembling voice, "I don't mean to
get you all excited. Far as your name goes, I'll keep your secret. I give
you my word on it. Trust me, I'll do what's right by you."
He was in a panic. His glance wavered from Terry's eyes to the revolver
at his side.
"Do you think so?" said Terry.


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