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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"The Seventh Man"

It went out; it flooded about them
again like beautiful, cold light. Once again it stopped, and now they
sensed, rather than heard, a light, rapid, padding step that approached
the cabin. Dan Barry stood in the door and in that shadowy place his eyes
seemed luminous. He no longer whistled, but a spirit went from him which
carried the same sense of the untamed, the wild happiness which died out
with his smile as he looked around the room. The brim of his hat curved up,
his neckerchief seemed to flutter a little. The wolf-dog reached the
threshold in the same instant and stood looking steadily up into the face of
the master.
"Daddy Dan!" cried Joan.
She had slipped from the nerveless arms of Kate and now ran towards her
father, but here she faltered, there she stopped with her arms slowly
falling back to her sides. He did not seem to see her, but looked past her,
far beyond every one in the room as he walked to the wall and took down a
bridle that hung on a peg. Kate laid her hands on the arms of the chair,
but after the first effort to rise, her strength failed.


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