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Various

"Stories by American Authors, Volume 1"


"It's hardly worth while," whispered one.
But they raised him and, sir--the body went one way and the legs
another.
I thought he was dead. I couldn't see that he breathed, when he opened
his eyes and looked up for the Slingsbys. "Put me down," he said, and
the doctors obeyed him. There was that in his voice that they had to
obey him, though it wasn't but a whisper.
"Ladders are of no use," he said. "Loper!"
"Yes, George"
"You can swing yourself up. Do it."
I went. I remember the queer stunned feeling I had: my joints moved like
a machine.
When I had reached the trapeze, he said, as cool as if he were calling
the figures for a Virginia reel, "Support them, you--Loper. Now, lower
the trapeze, men--carefully!"
It was the only way their lives could be saved, and he was the only man
to see it. He watched us until the girls touched the floor more dead
than alive, and then his head fell back and the life seemed to go
suddenly out of him like the flame out of a candle, leaving only the
dead wick.


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