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England, George Allan, 1877-1936

"The Flying Legion"

And I've gone,
at the end, on this wild-goose chase of yours, that's led you and
me and all of us to a black death here in the bottom of a damned,
fantastic, Arabian city of gold!
"That's all right, dying. That was in the bargain, if it had to be
done. Two-thirds of us are dead, already, a damn sight better men
than I am! We've been dying right along, from the beginning of this
crack-brained Don Quixote crusade. That's all right. But, faith! now
that it's my turn to die, by the holy saints I'm going to be well paid
for it!"
Bohannan, eyes wild, struck his heaving breast with a huge fist and
laughed like a maniac.
"That's all right, you reaching for your gun!" he defied the Master.
"Go ahead, shoot! I'm rich already. My pockets are half full. Shoot,
damn you, shoot!"
The Master laughed oddly, and let his hand fall from the pistol-butt.
"This," said he quite calmly, "is insanity."
"Ha! Insanity, it is? Well then, let me be insane, can't you? It's a
good way to die. And I've _lived_, anyhow. We've all lived. We've all
had a Hell of a run for our money, and it's time to quit.
"Shoot, if you want to--a few minutes more or less don't matter.


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