When I die, it will be quietly,
with some hand near, kind enough to cover my poor face with a napkin."
Harper and Ransom both remembered this remark a little while later.
"Mr. Hazen?" It was Harper who spoke. They had passed a little thicket
of brush and were drawing near the group under the tree. "Have you duly
considered what you are about to do? I have talked with several men of
judgment and experience about this attempt, and they all say it can have
but one termination."
"I know. That is because they know little or nothing of the life I have
led since I left this town. There is not a man amongst them so slight and
seemingly frail of figure as myself, but none of them, not one, has been
so often up to the very gates of death and escaped, as I have. My
schooling has been long and severe, perhaps in preparation for this day.
I have been through fire; I have been through water. The swirling of my
own native stream does not appall me. I rather welcome it; it is but
another experience."
"But for money?" broke in Ransom. "You acknowledge it is for no other
purpose. Will it pay? I own that in my eyes no amount of money could pay
a man for so superhuman a risk as this. Take a few thousands from me--I
had rather give them to you than see you leap into that water opening
beneath us like a hungry maw.
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